


seaside rendezvous

by laminy



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Arguing, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Getting to Know Each Other, Hiking, M/M, Miscommunication, Skinny Dipping, Surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laminy/pseuds/laminy
Summary: Joe's run out of inspiration back home, so he decides that writing somewhere new, somewherewarm, will help. He's right, but what he doesn't expect is to fall in love with the cute surf instructor he meets on the beach.
Relationships: Rami Malek/Joe Mazzello
Comments: 50
Kudos: 34
Collections: Bohemian Rhapsody Cast Summer 2020Event





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scarvesandtrenchcoats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarvesandtrenchcoats/gifts).



Joe sighs, dropping his suitcase on the parquet floor of his room. He looks around as he shrugs off his backpack, ducking his head into the bathroom, nodding. The tub is a decent size, he thinks. The entire place is bright, walls painted white, white sheets on the bed, pastel art on the walls. And a _gorgeous_ view, Joe thinks, walking over to the balcony. Before he steps outside, he can see the ocean and the palm trees, but when he steps outside and actually looks around… 

“Holy shit,” Joe says, grinning. He grips the railing of his balcony, bouncing up and down a few times as he looks out over the water. The hotel has a pool, so he guesses it’s alright that the beach is a bit further down the road; when he checked in, he nodded along as the staff told him how to get there, and talked about the local surf school. He smiles; he can see people out on the water now. Catching waves? Is that what it’s called, he asks himself. Doesn’t matter. There’s also hiking trails up through the mountains, tennis, golf. Not that he’s going to do any of it.

Joe keeps smiling, shaking his head in disbelief. This place is more beautiful than he could ever have imagined; he’d never been to Tenerife, but he wasn’t getting any writing done back home, and his agent told him to start looking for a place in the middle of nowhere to get something done without distractions. He thinks she probably meant an Airbnb in cottage country or something, but this was a stroke of genius, if he does say so himself.

Joe steps back into his room, closing the balcony door behind him, and he glances at his watch. With the time difference, he left New York twenty-four hours ago. A whole day of travelling, eugh. There were a couple layovers where he got to rest, though most of his sleep was on the six hour flight from Boston to Lisbon. He definitely knows he’s not writing today, and he thinks his agent will forgive him for that.

He decides on a shower just to get the stink of airplane off him, and then he changes, heading out of the resort to a restaurant just a short walk away. After he eats, his stomach full, finally feeling like an actual human being again instead of someone living on an airplane, he goes for a walk to a lookout over one of the beaches, one that he can’t see from his room. Joe nods, looking out over the ocean. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he got here.

Joe takes a few photos, reminds himself to email them to his family when he’s back at the hotel, and then heads back. When he lets himself into his room, he takes off his shoes, gets undressed, and steps out onto the balcony for one last look. He smiles, and then turns around, climbing into the massive bed, and then almost immediately falls asleep.

Breakfast is a massive buffet, and Joe emails his agent and everyone back home to let them know that he’s checked in and ready to start writing. Joe heads back up to his room, getting settled in at the desk. He’s got a notebook, a couple of his favourite pens, his laptop, and a book— _the_ book, the one he’s supposed to be adapting. Well, less adapting, more _inspired by_. Well, as of right now, neither, because he hasn’t started.

Joe stares at the wall in front of him, then down at his computer, then the book, then back at the wall. What’s the point of having such a gorgeous view if the desk faces the _wall_? It’s a travesty. Joe blows out a breath, and then makes a noise. He grabs the book, opening it to one of the bookmarked pages, a scene that, when he read it, made him actually feel inspired, where he could see it playing perfectly in his mind. He rereads that part, then flips to another scene, making a quiet noise. He picks up his pen, making a few notes, and then taps it against the page. He glances at his watch, and then sighs. “No, Joe,” he says softly. “It is _not_ lunchtime, and you will sit.”

Joe opens the book again to the first scene he read, and then he taps his fingers over his keyboard, quickly retyping the dialogue. He nods to himself, then turns back to his notebook, making a few more quick notes. Joe picks up the book again, and just starts reading. He keeps reading, and before he knows it, close to a couple hours have passed. And his stomach rumbles. “Well!” Joe says, closing the book and pushing his chair back. “That’s lunch.”

He does a quick search of restaurants in the area, heading to a different one than the night before. The food here is delicious, at least. Another point for Tenerife. After lunch, Joe goes for a quick walk around the streets around the hotel, just to stretch his legs and clear his head. 

He heads back up to his room, and sits back down at the desk, and then he sighs. He glances over at the balcony and then stands up, walking over. He opens the door, and peeks his head out as he looks around. The chair looks comfortable enough. The view looks even better. He smiles, and then heads back into the room, grabbing his laptop, the book, a pen and his notebook, carrying it all out onto the balcony. He sets it down and heads back in to grab his baseball hat and sunglasses, and then steps back outside. He gets settled onto the chair, smiling, and he opens his laptop.

The afternoon actually passes quickly and relatively painlessly while he’s out there. He looks out over the ocean every once in awhile; he can see people down at the beach and out in the water. He lets himself get distracted for a minute or two before he goes back to typing, and by the time he’s ready for supper, he thinks he’s got a really solid few pages done. Though Joe is itching to try out more restaurants in the area, the hotel serves a three-course dinner every night, so he may as well take advantage of it. 

Joe takes his time with his food, and then heads back up to his room. He thinks about going back to writing, but he’d rather just settle in and watch TV. He asks for directions to a local store so that he can buy some snacks, then he showers, climbs onto his bed, gets settled in and comfy, surrounded by food. He sends some texts, updates Instagram with a photo from the lookout the day before, and falls asleep.

Joe gets a couple more pages done in the morning before he heads out to a nearby restaurant for lunch. He spends the afternoon on the balcony again, looking down at the beach, and then he decides to forgo supper in the hotel this time, because he wants to finally walk down there and see what’s going on.

He gets changed and heads towards the beach that’s maybe about twenty minutes from the hotel. There’s a restaurant nearby with tables on the patio, and Joe sits down, having a beer and some tapas as he looks out over the black sand. He smiles as he looks around, nodding his thanks to the server. 

When he’s done, Joe walks down a path to the beach, lifting his hand up to shade his eyes against the sun. He feels a bit overdressed, even though he really isn’t; it’s just that all the other men there are shirtless. Joe makes sure to stay away from the people just lounging on the sand; he doesn’t want to come off like he’s staring at them, and he doesn’t want to bother them. He just looks out at the ocean, stopping to watch a couple people who are out there on the water. 

He’s seen plenty of people surf before, obviously, but he still doesn’t really get how it’s possible. That it’s a thing that people can do. He walks a bit closer to the water, and he knows that he’s noticeably staring at them, but he can’t look away. One of them comes back onto the beach, holding his bodyboard, and Joe gives him a quick smile before looking away. A few moments later, the second guy comes back in, shorts low on his hips, carrying his surfboard.

Joe gives him a smile as well, except this guy smiles back before Joe can look away. As Joe watches, the guy flips his head a bit to get his wet curls off his forehead, heading back over to his friends on the beach. Joe nods, watching them for a moment longer. Joe looks back out at the ocean, and then turns, heading back to his hotel.

Joe walks into the restaurant, rubbing his stomach a bit as he goes. He’d slept in and missed breakfast, so he hasn’t eaten yet today, and he’s pretty much starving. He’s back down by the beach, at a place that he’d seen the night before, and he takes a seat. He orders a beer and looks over the menu. Maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, Joe thinks, but he really loves paella, so why not.

He takes a drink, nodding his head to the music playing, and then he takes out his phone, playing around on it as he waits. He looks up when he hears a group of people come in, laughing, and he shifts a bit when he realizes that it’s the surfers from the night before. Fresh from the beach again, if Joe had to guess; their shirts are still a bit damp where the fabric is clinging to them.

As the group sits down, Joe’s food is brought out, and he looks up, smiling and saying thank you. As Joe pulls his chair a bit closer to the table, grabbing his fork, he looks over at the group, and sees one of them watching him out of the corner of his eye; the one with the black curls. Joe can’t help but smile, it’s just automatic, immediate. The guy looks surprised for a split second, like maybe he didn’t realize Joe had caught him looking, but then he smiles back, giving Joe a quick wave. Joe waves back as well, then takes a drink, digging into his food.

It becomes routine for Joe to eat breakfast at the hotel, sort of flounder with his writing in the morning, go get lunch, come back to have a great writing afternoon, and then go find supper. He walks by the beach, Playa del Arenal, at least once a day. It depends on how far he decides to go for supper. He’s surprised at how often the surfers are at the beach when he walks by; it’s not every time, but it’s enough that he thinks they must be the surf instructors. Otherwise, they’re working even less than he is.

Joe walks along the beach again, hands in his pockets. He looks out over the water, but it’s surprisingly empty. Well, there are people in it, but nobody with a surfboard. He glances at his watch, thinking that he usually sees them around this time. He tries not to let himself feel disappointed, because he can’t even figure out why he should be. Disappointed that the people he doesn’t know, that he’s never even _talked_ to, happen to be doing something else at the same time he’s decided to go for a walk. It’s not a real loss.

Joe realizes though, the idea hitting him suddenly— duh, _he’s_ a tourist, there’s nothing to say that those other guys weren’t as well. It would make sense that they spend all their time surfing then, if that’s the entire reason they came to Tenerife. He nods, thinking _well, that’s that_ , and then turns to head back to his hotel. “Oh my god!” Joe says, jumping back a bit, and then the guy grins at him, face bright.

“Sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you were here and I wanted to come say hi.”

“Hi,” Joe echoes softly, and then he straightens up, nodding quickly. “Hi! Uh, sorry. No, it’s okay, I was just a little surprised.” He extends his hand out. “I’m Joe,” he says.

“Joe,” the other guys says, nodding as he takes Joe’s hand. “I’m Rami.”

Joe swallows, trying not to think about what _Rami_ sounds like, and he just nods. “Nice to meet you, Rami. You’re American.”

Rami gives Joe a confused smile, then nods. “Uh, yes? Last time I checked, anyway.”

“Sorry,” Joe says, “I hope that’s not…offensive.”

“Why would I be offended by that?” Rami asks.

“I don’t know,” Joe says. “I just assumed you were from…” He reaches up, scratching the back of his head. “Here, I guess. Or maybe Morocco.”

“Close,” Rami says. “My parents are Egyptian. But I was born in the US. I went to university in Indiana, so…pretty American.”

“Oh, wow,” Joe says. “That is…Indiana, huh.”

Rami nods, then just gives an awkward laugh. “ _Anyway_ ,” he says, “it’s nice to finally meet you too. I’ve seen you around. You like the beach?”

“Sure,” Joe nods, looking around. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You never swim,” Rami says, and Joe looks back at him in surprise. “Or surf, or anything. Do you not go in the water?”

“Oh,” Joe says, realizing that Rami’s right; he actually hasn’t gone swimming since he’s been here. “I— I don’t know, I wasn’t even…thinking, really. I just like…the view.” He looks at Rami, and then clears his throat, glancing away as Rami starts to smile.

“Are you looking for lessons?” Rami asks.

Oh, Joe thinks, he _is_ an instructor. Joe shakes his head though. “No, I— I…don’t think I’m built for that sort of thing.”

Rami grins at him. “I think you’re built just fine,” he says, and Joe can feel his eyes widen a bit, and wonders if he’s blushing, but Rami doesn’t seem to care. “So what are you doing right now?” Rami asks.

“Uh,” Joe shrugs, shaking his head. “Was just walking, I guess.”

“Did you eat already?” Rami asks.

Joe shakes his head again. “No, I was on my way.”

Rami smiles. “Where are you headed?”

Joe smiles back, shrugging. “I don’t know,” he says. “Wherever, I guess.”

“There are a few more restaurants if you walk a bit further down the road,” Rami says. “Have you been to Zeppelin yet?” Joe shakes his head. “Great, come on.” Rami walks by Joe and waves him on, and Joe freezes for a moment before he blinks and turns around, following after him. “How long have you been here now?” Rami asks. “A week?”

“Yeah, thereabouts,” Joe says, nodding.

“But you haven’t gone swimming,” Rami says. “I haven’t seen you out at night.” He glances over at him. “You don’t have a tan.”

Joe glances down at himself, then back up at Rami. “I burn easily,” he says.

Rami grins. “I bet,” he says. “I can tell. So, you don’t swim, party, or hike. What are you doing on Tenerife?”

“Uh, writing,” Joe says.

“Writing,” Rami echoes, trying to hide his surprise. “You came here to write. That’s— can’t you do that anywhere?”

“Guess not,” Joe says. “Well, you _can_ , obviously. People do, every day. But I needed…something new. A— like, a…I don’t know.”

“Change of scenery?” Rami suggests, and Joe snaps his fingers, nodding.

“Yes,” he says, “that.”

“Are you a _good_ writer?” Rami asks, and Joe opens his mouth, looking at him in surprise, but Rami just laughs.

“Well, what do _you_ do?” Joe asks.

“You know what I do,” Rami continues. “Unless you’re dumber than you look.”

“Wow,” Joe says, “you really just say whatever you like.” Rami shrugs, and just looks over at Joe, clearly expecting an answer. “I, uh, yeah, you surf. I assume you’re a surf instructor. When I checked into my hotel, they asked if I was interested in lessons.”

“Which,” Rami says, “we’ve already established, you’re not.” 

Joe shakes his head. “Is that a year-round thing?” he asks. “Like, do people surf every season here?”

“24/7, 365,” Rami says. “Well, not me personally, but yep. There’s always tourists. _Seasons_ aren’t really a thing here. Not much, anyway. Rain in December.” They cross the street, and Rami glances over at him. “How do you know I’m not just leading you off somewhere to kill you?”

Joe’s eyes widen a bit at the shock of Rami’s words, thinking for a moment, _how do I know that_ , but then after a beat, he realizes why. “Because I’m an American, staying in a fancy hotel, here for work. If I go missing, it would take like, a day to figure it out.”

“And in that day,” Rami says, “I could have disappeared to anywhere. I’d never be caught.”

“Jesus, you’re morbid,” Joe says. He stops walking, crossing his arms. “Are you going to kill me or not?”

Rami grins. “No,” he says, “I wasn’t planning on it. You seem like too much trouble.”

“Good,” Joe says. “So stop talking about my death. Where are we going?” he asks, and they start walking again.

“Zeppelin,” Rami says again. “It’s not far.”

“What type of food is it?” Joe asks.

“Does it matter?” Rami asks. “But it’s a hamburger place.”

“Oh my god,” Joe groans, “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted a good burger until right now.”

“I could tell that about you,” Rami says. “You look hungry.” He looks at Joe, and Joe swallows hard, meeting Rami’s eyes for a moment before he has to look away. “Come on,” Rami says, and he hops up a couple steps to the front door, holding it open for Joe. “After you.”

“Thanks,” Joe says, glancing back at Rami, wondering briefly if he’s doing it just to be polite or if there’s an ulterior motive— either Rami’s staring at his ass or about to play some prank on him, but Rami just smiles back. 

They get seated at a small table in the corner, and Joe politely nods at the server, and then looks across the table at Rami. “So,” he says.

Rami smiles at him. “So. Tell me what you’re writing.”

“Oh,” Joe says, shifting forward in his seat a bit. “It’s a miniseries for Hulu.”

“Holy shit,” Rami says, “so you’re like, a real writer.”

“Yeah,” Joe says, smiling a bit. “Did you think I was lying?”

“No,” Rami says, “but I thought you were a writer the way that _everybody_ is a writer, like, you’ve been working on a book for the last ten years and this vacation was finally going to be the one where inspiration struck.”

Joe’s smile widens. “Does that happen a lot here?” he asks.

Rami nods. “Uh, yeah. Every month there’s at least one guy down on the beach asking us what it’s like to live here, what it’s like to, I don’t even know.” He shakes his head. “Like, you can tell they all just want an excuse to sit on the sand and stare at the women all day, instead of going home to their wives.”

“Jesus,” Joe says softly. “Oh, no, I’m—” He shakes his head. “I’m not like that.”

“Which part?” Rami asks. “The staring at women or the going home to their wives?”

Joe feels his cheeks heat up a bit, and he looks down, swallowing hard. “Uh, none of it,” he says. “The— well, first of all, I’m not here to interview anybody. Secondly, I don’t stare.”

Rami snorts a bit at that, smiling. “At women, you mean,” he says.

Joe thinks he’s probably staring at Rami in that moment, so he blinks a couple times. “And I don’t have a wife, so.”

“Husband?” Rami asks.

“Nope,” Joe says. “I am single.”

Rami smiles faintly, picking up his menu. “Good,” he says softly, and Joe just looks at him, trying hard not to smile back. He doesn’t even know what to say, what does anybody say to that? Joe picks up his own menu, and then Rami speaks again. “So, sorry,” he says, “a miniseries. About what?”

“It’s an adaptation of a book,” Joe says, “about the Troubles.”

“ _I can’t believe the news today_ ,” Rami sings softly, “ _I can’t close my eyes and make it go away_.” He looks at Joe over his menu. “U2.”

“I know,” Joe says, “ _War_ , 1983.”

Rami smiles. “Okay, I guess you’ve heard it, then,” Rami says. “So, you came here to write. A miniseries. How many episodes is that?”

“Uh,” Joe shrugs, “not sure yet.”

“They don’t tell you?” Rami asks.

“They want six to ten,” Joe says. “Just drafts. When I’m done, I’ll send them over, they’ll work their Hulu magic, see what can be cut or what they want more of.”

“Wow,” Rami says. “And how much do you write a day?”

“Uh…” Joe slumps back in his seat a bit, tapping his foot.

Rami grins. “That bad, huh?” he asks.

“No!” Joe says quickly. “Well, sort of, maybe. I’ve got the first episode done. Pretty much.”

“Oh,” Rami says. “Okay, so like, one a week. That’s pretty good, actually. You could be here for awhile longer, then.”

Joe nods, trying to figure out if Rami thinks that’s a good thing, a bad thing, or just stating the facts. “Uh, yeah,” he says, “probably will be.”

“Cool,” Rami says.

They get their drinks, and order their burgers, and then Joe looks back at Rami. “So, wait, how do you get from Indiana to Tenerife teaching _surfing_?” he asks. “I’m a writer struggling for inspiration, you see that every day. You’re the more interesting person here, by far.”

Rami coughs a bit on his beer, smiling at him. “I…don’t know if _that’s_ true, I…” He shrugs. “Grew up surfing, always really dug it. Graduated, got a job, wasn’t into it, came here on vacation, guess I was one of those guys who just wanted to figure out a way to stay here on the sand instead of going home.” He takes another drink. “I didn’t just _stay_ , I— I went home, did all the paperwork, said goodbye, came back. I go home every year though, usually for a couple months. It’s not bad.”

“So why here?” Joe asks.

Rami sighs, looking around. “Well, the break gives you left and right walls, so it’s perfect for both goofy and regular-footed surfers,” he says. “Catch a good north-northwest swell, you can get up to a hundred metres. Best surfed on a mid-tide with a two or three foot swell running. But the sand moves, so you gotta watch out for a shore-break at high tide.”

Joe just looks at Rami, smiling faintly. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rami smiles back. “Yeah, I know,” he says softly. “Sometimes I teach at El Lobo too, it’s the perfect lefthand point break for beginners.”

Joe opens his mouth to speak, but then he shakes his head. “First of all, still no. Second of all, point break is a real thing? Not just an amazing movie?”

“It’s just a place where waves hit land or rocks that jut out from the coastline,” Rami says.

Joe nods. “Also, just so you know, all that stuff you said about—” He waves his hand between them. “I didn’t understand a word.”

“I know,” Rami says. “But you’ll be here for a few more weeks at least, right? So, plenty of time to learn.”

“I don’t want to surf,” Joe says.

“Fine,” Rami says, taking a drink. “And to answer your question, there’s no real reason why it was Tenerife over Hawaii or France or South Africa.” He shrugs. “I just…came here. And liked it.” He takes another drink. “Why did you pick Tenerife?”

Joe smiles. “I…” He shrugs. “I can’t even tell you, I— I’d never been. I’d heard of it. Well, I’d heard of the Canary Islands. I just sort of fucked around on Google Maps until I thought, why the hell not.”

“Why the hell not indeed,” Rami says. “Oh,” he says suddenly, picking up his drink. “I assume I’m the first person you’ve eaten with since you got here.”

Joe nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says, sounding a bit unsure.

“Well,” Rami says, “cheers then. Welcome to Tenerife.”

“Oh,” Joe says, picking up his drink as well, and Rami clinks their bottles together. “Thank you.” He smiles at Rami as he takes a drink, and he can’t help but wonder what this is. Joe’s not even there on vacation, he’s there to _work_ , but this, _him_ … Joe just takes another drink, and Rami smiles.

They stay there _way_ longer than Joe ever expected; after they eat their food, he keeps expecting Rami to stand up and excuse himself, saying he has to go meet a late client, or hang out with a friend. But Rami keeps ordering beers, and Joe does too, and Rami keeps smiling at him, and Joe keeps smiling back. Joe tells Rami more about the miniseries, and Rami tries to explain more surfing terms to him, but Joe just keeps laughing and shaking his head, saying he doesn’t get it. But that doesn’t stop Rami from trying.

They leave the restaurant, and Joe glances around, thinking about the walk back to the hotel. He could get a cab, and he thinks about asking Rami to call him one, or asking Rami about where he lives, because he expects that, pretty soon, Rami’s going to call it a night and say goodbye. But they just start walking back towards the beach, Rami waving him forward with another “come on.”

Joe follows behind, looking around. The sun has set, but it’s still warm; they were in there for _hours_ talking, and Joe can’t remember the last time that happened. He follows Rami down to the beach, and then looks over in surprise when Rami peels his t-shirt off. 

“Come on,” Rami says again, reaching down to tug off his Keds.

“Come on what?” Joe asks, looking Rami up and down.

“We’re going swimming,” Rami says.

“No, we’re not,” Joe says.

“Uh, yes, we are,” Rami says. “Come on.” He glances around. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s dangerous,” Joe says. “We’ve been drinking, it’s night time, oh my god this is literally the opening scene from _Jaws_.”

Rami rolls his eyes. “Fine, come on,” he says, reaching down to grab his shoes and his shirt.

“You say that a _lot_ ,” Joe says, but he follows behind Rami anyway. “Where are we going?”

“The pools,” Rami says, leading Joe further down the beach. “Lifeguards aren’t on duty, but I’ve never heard of a shark getting in here.” He drops his shoes and his shirt and then looks back at Joe, smiling.

“What?” Joe asks.

“Nothing,” Rami says, and then he turns away before pushing down his shorts, walking ahead into the water. Joe’s eyes immediately widen, staring down at Rami’s ass, and his mouth falls open a bit, and Rami smiles, swimming a few feet into the pool before turning around, treading water. “Are you coming in or not?” Rami calls out, and Joe keeps staring at Rami before he starts nodding eagerly, tugging off his shirt, grabbing his sneakers and pulling them off. He pushes down his shorts, and then he looks down at his boxer briefs, teeth digging into his top lip.

“I don’t bite!” Rami calls out, and then he laughs a bit. “Look, I’ll even turn around.” 

Joe watches Rami turn away, and then he sighs, pushing his underwear down, stepping out of them, and then carefully walking into the water. He shivers a bit, but it’s not really _that_ cold. “Okay,” Joe says, and Rami smiles as he turns back around, looking at him.

“Not so bad, is it?” Rami asks. “You _can_ swim, right? Did I ask you that already?”

“I can swim,” Joe confirms.

“Good,” Rami says softly, and then he pushes himself onto his back, kicking his feet as he floats in the water, looking up at the sky. 

Joe watches Rami, thinking that he looks absolutely gorgeous; he’s thought that all night, but of course, naked, wet, in the moonlight, well…that’s something else. Joe ducks his head under the water, trying to clear his head. He has no idea what’s going on. This feels romantic, but… Well, he’s not really sure if this counts as romance. He has no idea what it counts as. Just two guys, hanging out together, skinny dipping. Okay then. Welcome to Tenerife.

“Do you want to be famous?” Rami asks.

Joe blinks. “Huh?”

“Is that why you write?” Rami asks. “To be famous?”

“Are you implying I’m not famous already?” Joe asks, smirking a bit.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rami says. “I— we probably don’t get the same movies here that you would back home. I— leave it to me, you probably…are you famous?”

Joe looks at Rami, and then shakes his head. “No,” he says, smiling. “I’m not. I’ve done a few things, I have a couple small awards, but no. And also, no, I don’t want to be famous. I write because…I’ve just always wanted to. I enjoy it.”

“Good,” Rami says. 

“Good?” Joe echoes. “Why is that good? Would you be offended if I said yes?”

“I wouldn’t say _offended_ ,” Rami says, “but it would make me see you differently.”

Joe scoffs a bit, smiling. “We’ve only known each other for like, six hours,” he says. “How could you see me?”

“You don’t see me a certain way?” Rami asks, and he swims back over to Joe, treading water a couple feet in front of him. “You don’t think anything of me?”

“That’s…” Joe trails off, shrugging. “No,” he says. “I think lots of things about you.”

Rami’s smile grows. “Are any of them good?” he asks. Joe nods. “Are any of them _bad_?” Rami asks, and Joe thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Good,” Rami says quietly. He pushes his hands through the pool, and then he reaches out, locking fingers with Joe under the water. Rami looks at Joe, smiling.

Joe swallows nervously and then tugs Rami towards him, looking down as Rami wraps one of his arms around Joe’s shoulders, holding onto him. “What are you doing?” Joe asks softly, and Rami shrugs.

“Is it too much?” Rami asks, and Joe shakes his head. “Can I kiss you?” Rami asks, and Joe looks at him, eyes flicking down to Rami’s lips, and then he nods. Rami leans in, looking down at Joe’s mouth, and then he closes his eyes as he leans in, pressing his mouth to Joe’s. It’s a relatively quick, gentle kiss, and Rami pulls back, reaching up to push his hair back from his forehead, water dropping from his hand down onto his face. Rami gives Joe a small smile, and then leans in to kiss him again.

Joe moans softly against Rami’s mouth, his arm wrapping around Rami’s waist, pulling him in closer. Rami’s fingers clench and dig into Joe’s neck, his other hand coming up to rest against Joe’s chest. Rami’s mouth opens under his, and Joe’s tongue gently licks at him before they break apart again. Rami rests his head against Joe’s shoulder before he pushes back from him, going under the water again for a moment, while Joe just watches him, thinking _what the fuck_.

“Tell me something you like about me already,” Rami says.

Joe frowns a bit. “Sorry?” he asks. “What— what do you mean?”

“It’s from a quiz,” Rami says, “or…maybe quiz is the wrong word. It’s from a list of questions to get to know somebody better. You tell me something you like about me, and I’ll tell you something I like about you.”

Joe looks at Rami with a confused smile on his face, and then he just blinks a couple times, shaking his head. “I like that you seem to have no problem saying what you’re thinking,” he says. “And I like you…know what you want. In life. And moved here.” He smiles at Rami. “What do you like about me?” he asks.

“Uh, I think I like…” Rami pushes himself onto his back again, looking up at the sky. “You seem very kind.”

Joe keeps smiling. “Thank you,” he says softly. “I like to think that’s true.”

“Good,” Rami says. He rolls onto his stomach and then swims underwater, popping up again back by Joe. “It’s getting late,” he says, “and I don’t want to distract you from your writing.”

Joe tries to keep his disappointment from showing on his face. “I…you’re not a distraction,” he says, and Rami smiles. “But it is late,” Joe concedes.

Rami swims by Joe and then climbs out of the pool, and Joe turns, watching him. “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” Rami says, reaching down, pulling on his shorts.

Joe swallows hard and looks down as he steps out of the pool. “You don’t have to,” he says, and he reaches down, grabbing his boxer briefs. He glances at Rami, and then opens his mouth when he sees Rami immediately look away. “You peeked!”

Rami laughs loudly, the bright sound ringing through the night. “Yeah!” Rami exclaims. “Obviously. I’m not a monk.” Joe pulls on his underwear, and then grabs his shorts, pulling them on as well. “Don’t pretend you didn’t look at me,” Rami says.

“Of course I did,” Joe says softly, grabbing his shirt, and Rami just smiles. They both put their shoes on, patting their pockets to make sure they have everything, and then Joe looks at Rami. “Is it safe here at night?” he asks.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” Rami asks.

“No, I—” Joe swallows. “I meant, you’re alright?”

Rami smiles, and nods, pointing back towards the road. “See that yellow house?” he asks. “White fence?” Joe nods. “That’s me.”

“Oh,” Joe says, “okay, so you live like…”

“Right on the beach, yeah,” Rami says. “Well, close enough anyway.” He smiles at Joe. “Are _you_ alright?” he asks. “Which hotel are you at anyway?”

“Océano,” Joe says.

Rami turns, pointing off into the distance. “You can see it there,” he says. “It’s like half an hour. Do you want me to walk with you?”

Joe shakes his head, smiling. “No,” he says, “just get me to the road, point me in the right direction,” he says, and Rami smiles. They walk up the beach together, taking a path up to the road, ending up pretty close to the yellow house Rami claims as his own. They cross the street, and Joe looks the house up and down, nodding. “Nice,” he says.

“Thanks,” Rami says. “And thank you for the night, it was really fun.” He leans in, kissing Joe again. “Goodnight.”

Joe smiles. “Goodnight,” he says. He takes a couple steps backwards, and then waves at Rami. “Sleep well.”

Rami grins, and waves back. “You too,” he says. “Be safe.”

Joe nods, and then turns, walking up the street. Rami’s right, it takes him about half an hour to get back to the hotel. When he goes up to his room, the first thing he does is walk out onto his balcony, leaning forward to see how far he can see— the beach, or maybe Rami’s house. He doesn’t think he can, but still, he smiles, and gets an excited giddy feeling in his stomach. Joe has no idea what tonight was, but he’d like for it to happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it so far, and thank you for reading! I've been really looking forward to sharing this story, I don't think I've ever written anything this close to a romantic comedy in my life. It was such a fantastic prompt, I hope you don't mind that I sort of ran away with it.
> 
> To celebrate, here's a [moodboard](https://i.imgur.com/4dY2StW.jpg) I made for it! 🌴


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (just a note that tags are updated, and the rating applies to this chapter)

Joe wakes up the next morning, and starts his routine of breakfast then floundering with his writing, but Joe finds his eyes being drawn more and more to the balcony. Not the _balcony_ , per se, but what he can see from it. It’s a gorgeous day, and he doesn’t need his room to write, so why not take his laptop to the beach and write there? He’s going to have to go out for lunch at some point anyway.

Joe grabs what he thinks he’ll need, packing his backpack with his laptop and the book and whatever else. He pulls on his sneakers, walking down to the beach, stopping along the way to buy a bottle of Coke to hold him over and cool him down until lunch. He doesn’t see Rami on the beach, and thinks about how Rami told him that he teaches at another beach sometimes— also, Joe realizes, he’s sure that Rami gets weekends. Or days off. Or _something_.

Joe tries to shake it off; he’s there to write anyway, so it doesn’t really matter where Rami is. He takes out his laptop, careful to keep it away from the sand, adjusting the brightness a few times, and then he settles in. He’s not sure how long he’s been there for when a shadow appears next to him, and he looks up as Rami sits down. 

“You’re still here,” Rami says. “So I guess that means you didn’t finish writing the other nine episodes last night,” he says, and Joe laughs softly, shaking his head. 

“No, I certainly did not,” Joe says, and he watches as Rami reaches down to pick up the book, flipping through it.

“Do you need this?” Rami asks. Joe shakes his head, watching as Rami starts to read. After a couple pages, Rami glances up. “I have a couple lessons in the afternoon,” he says, glancing over towards where his board is resting against one of the small surf huts that line the beach. “I’ll probably be done around six. Are you free after?”

Joe nods. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “This is— you’re looking at it.”

“Cool,” Rami says, smiling. “If you sit out here all day, you’ll be burned, you know.”

“Yeah,” Joe says, “but I don’t really wanna walk back and then…back.” He shrugs. “Besides, I kind of want to see you surf.”

Rami shakes his head. “Is Hulu paying you to watch me surf?” he asks.

Joe snorts. “Did my agent hire you to make sure I stay on track?” he asks.

“No,” Rami says, stretching out on the sand, making a quiet noise. “Do you think they would?”

“Do you need to get paid to hang out with me?” Joe asks, and Rami makes another quiet noise, wearing a smug smile. “Gee, thanks,” Joe says.

“Of course not,” Rami says after another moment. “You’re nice company.” He stretches out a bit more, and then sets the book down. He reaches down to tug off his t-shirt, balling it up, using it as a pillow on the sand. “Warm,” Rami says, picking up the book again, and Joe just looks down at him, staring in disbelief, until Rami starts to laugh again. He reaches out, pointing with a finger, poking Joe’s cheek. “Focus on your work.”

“Fuck,” Joe says, “easier said than done.” He looks back at his laptop though, clearing his throat, just shaking his head as he tries to ignore the gorgeous expanse of tanned skin next to him. _Fuck_ , he thinks. Maybe he should have stuck to writing in his room after all.

Rami works a surprising amount, Joe notices; he keeps expecting, or maybe hoping, that Rami will mention a day off, but it doesn’t seem to happen. He’s not always busy all day; some days are like that first one, and Rami’s lessons are in the afternoon only. Some days, just the morning. There are a couple days where Rami’s busy all day; Joe gets a fair bit of writing done then. He guesses that Rami is some sort of inspiration. But regardless of how much writing Joe gets done, or how many lessons Rami has, the days end the same way— Rami puts his board away, Joe puts his laptop away, and they go out.

Joe’s not entirely sure if he can call what they’re doing dating; it certainly _feels_ like dating. They see each other every day, and they show no signs of getting tired of each other. Joe thinks that they’ve gone to every restaurant in town by now. After a few hours of food and drinks, they walk around, either the streets or back to the beach. Rami hasn’t suggested skinny dipping again, but Joe sort of wishes he would. They always end with a kiss, though; well, more than one, but never more than that. Joe still hasn’t been to Rami’s house, and Rami hasn’t seen Joe’s hotel room.

Today, after they’ve been “seeing” each other for maybe a week, Joe heads to the beach in the morning, and Rami shows up a short while later, greeting him with a smile and kiss. Like boyfriends would, Joe thinks. Except…

They sit together on the sand for awhile, before Joe goes to grab a quick lunch while Rami starts his first lesson, and then Joe comes back to settle in on the sand to watch. It’s a young couple, Joe assumes, and Rami’s teaching the woman while one of Rami’s friends, another instructor, teaches the man. Joe smiles every once in awhile as Rami shows off one new move or another, but Rami doesn’t seem to pay him much mind. Which, Joe supposes, is a good thing. Joe may technically be getting paid to sit there and watch Rami, but Rami sure as hell isn’t getting paid to watch him. And Joe’s work isn’t going to get someone killed if he gets distracted.

The lessons last about two hours; Rami ducks back over in between them just to say hi to Joe, ask him what he thinks. Joe thinks Rami looks fucking amazing, but he doesn’t say that, he just smiles and nods, and says, “yeah, great,” while Rami takes a drink of water, smiling.

When the second lesson is over, Rami comes back over to him while the other instructor walks over to a woman sitting on the beach, leaning down to give her a kiss. “So,” Rami says, setting his board down on the sand. “Do you know Santa Cruz?” Joe looks up at Rami, shaking his head. “It’s a city on the other side of the island,” Rami says. “Like, I don’t know, forty minutes? Forty-five? Anyway, Desi and Abril are going to a nightclub over there, Los Reunidos. They want to know if we want to come.”

“Oh,” Joe says, looking down at his things, what he’s wearing, and he frowns a bit. “Uh, not tonight,” he says, sounding a bit hesitant. “Um, I wouldn’t— I’m not dressed for it, and my laptop.”

“Right,” Rami says, nodding, glancing back at Desi.

“You can go though,” Joe says. “Don’t feel stuck with me, I— I had a good afternoon just watching, I…that sounds weirder than I thought, but.”

“No way,” Rami says, sitting down next to Joe. “I asked you to stay, I won’t ditch. We can go again some other time.” He looks at Joe. “Is there anything you want to do instead?” he asks.

Joe shrugs, as if he can’t think of a few things. “Uh, eat. And you must be starving.”

Rami smiles. “Yeah, I am. Uh…” He clicks his tongue a couple times. “I have an idea but I’m worried you’ll say no.”

“You, worried?” Joe asks. “I…can’t believe that. What is it?”

“Okay, uh, do you wanna go see a movie?” Rami asks.

“Is there a theatre here?” Joe asks, automatically looking around as if there was a building right on the beach.

“No, not here,” Rami says. “I usually go to one in San Cristóbal, it’s like, thirty minutes away.”

“Do you take the bus?” Joe asks, and Rami huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Uh, no,” Rami says. “I drive.”

“Oh,” Joe says, nodding, then he looks at him in surprise. “I— wait, what? You have a car? Why do you walk everywhere then?”

“I know,” Rami says, “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” Joe asks.

Rami shrugs. “That you…I don’t know. I thought about driving you home that first night, but you were still a stranger.” He looks at Joe, smoothing his hand out over the sand. “And I wasn’t sure what you would’ve expected from me if I drove you back to your hotel.”

“Oh,” Joe says. “I— right.” He clears his throat. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was just surprised. I’ve only seen you on foot around here.”

“Yeah, because you can see my house from here,” Rami says. “Surfboards are pretty awkward to carry,” he says, patting the board next to him. “When I go to another beach I have to put it on the rack. But listen, a— a movie was just my idea, we can stay in town and eat here.”

“No, a movie’s cool,” Joe says. “I— my clothes, though, I—”

Rami shakes his head. “I’m going in this,” he says, “trust me, nobody cares.”

“Okay,” Joe says. “Um, yeah. Why not?”

“Yeah?” Rami asks eagerly, and Joe smiles, nodding. “Okay. Let me just— hold on a sec.” He scrambles to push himself up on the sand, walking over to Desi and Abril, talking for a minute, and then he comes back over to Joe. “Ready?” he asks.

“Sure, yeah,” Joe says, “just gimme a sec.”

Rami kneels back down in the sand, picking up Joe’s book, putting it in his bag, and then he smiles, watching Joe pack up his laptop. Rami stands up, picking up his board, and then he gives his friends another wave as he and Joe start walking towards Rami’s house. Rami opens the front gate and walks up to the front door, taking out his keys. “You can just wait in here,” he says, “I gotta hang up my board.”

“Sure,” Joe says, and he steps just inside Rami’s house, looking around. He can’t see much from just where he’s standing, nothing that tells him any more about Rami than what he already knows, but he peers around anyway as Rami walks off, turning a corner. He comes back a few seconds later without the board, smiling at Joe. “Okay,” Rami says. “Let’s go.”

They drive over the island, Joe looking out the window most of the time as Rami explains to him where they are, what the good restaurants are near there. He talks about things like if you turn down that road, and keep driving, what sort of waves you can expect at the beach you’ll hit. Joe just smiles, glancing over at him every once in awhile, watching the way Rami holds onto the wheel with one hand while the other one flits about, pointing out trees and buildings and whatever else they pass.

Rami pulls off the highway and up into a parking lot, looking over at Joe as he takes the keys out of the ignition. “How much Spanish do you speak, anyway?” he asks, as if he hasn’t been listening to Joe struggle to read menus every night for the last week.

“Uh,” Joe just sort of trails off and laughs, looking at Rami. “I mean, almost none.”

Rami grins. “Yeah, I sort of guessed. Come on,” he says, reaching over to pat Joe’s leg a couple times before getting out of the car. “I’ll translate.”

_I’ll translate_ ends up meaning that Rami buys their tickets and Joe’s food for him, and then after they watch the movie (during which they sit close together, not touching but almost, and it’s like Joe can _feel_ the warmth radiating off Rami’s body), when they get back in the car, Rami spends the drive back to Punta del Hidalgo explaining as much of it as he can remember, while Joe asks questions.

Rami laughs loudly, looking at Joe. “If you thought they were dating, I can see why you were confused.”

“I did!” Joe says. “They seemed very— like…sexual. Didn’t they? They did. For sure they did!”

“They were brother and sister!” Rami exclaims, and he laughs again. “God, now I feel bad, I definitely should have said something during the movie. You would’ve understood more.”

Joe sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I feel so…wow. Brother and sister. I— are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Rami says. “I speak Spanish. Fluently.”

“Okay, fine,” Joe says, shaking his head. He settles back in his seat, looking out the window but also looking at Rami out of the corner of his eye. As they get closer to home, a familiar nervous feeling starts twisting in Joe’s gut. It’s not just pure lust, though pretty close, but just the wonder and anticipation of what’s about to happen. The excitement. Joe swallows hard, and starts breathing a little differently as he realizes that he’s seeing familiar sights; they drive by the burger place they went to, he can see the beach. Joe brings his thumb up to his mouth, biting down on a hangnail, wondering if Rami will turn off onto his own road. Wondering why he can’t bring himself to just _ask_. It’s not like he’s a virgin. They’re both adults. Regardless of what the other stuff they’ve done has been, _this_ was definitely a date, wasn’t it?

Rami glances over at Joe, smiling at him, and Joe wonders if amongst other talents, Rami can also read his mind. “Is it cool if I drop you off at the hotel?” Rami asks. “Now that you know I have a car, and you’re less of a stranger…I don’t feel good about making you walk again.”

“No, that’s— yeah, thank you,” Joe nods. “I appreciate that.”

“Cool,” Rami says. “I feel like I always miss the turn to that place, the streets are kind of a mess up there.”

“Don’t put yourself out,” Joe says. “I can— you can drop me off nearby.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Rami says, “don’t worry. Besides, you’ve walked all over this place since you got here, you deserve a drive.” He reaches down, turning the radio down a bit, looking around at the streets. “Here!” he says, making the sharp turn, grinning over at Joe. “Got it.”

“You did,” Joe says quietly.

Rami drums his hand on the steering wheel and drives down the winding street, eventually pulling up to Joe’s hotel, putting the car in park. He looks over at Joe, and Joe just swallows hard, watching Rami back. “I had fun tonight,” Rami says, and Joe smiles, nodding.

“Yeah, me too,” Joe says. He reaches down, tugging his backpack out from where he shoved it under the seat during the movie, and then he looks over at Rami again. “I…” His eyes glance towards the hotel. He wants so desperately to ask Rami to come upstairs with him, but…that doesn’t really seem like why Rami’s here. “So, I’ll be seeing you again?” Joe asks hopefully.

“Of course,” Rami says, smiling at him, like it would be ridiculous to suggest anything else. “Tomorrow’s another busy day, it’s half-day lessons again, but I should still be done around the same time.” He reaches over, taking Joe’s hand, gently locking their fingers together, and he smiles. “Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and Joe nods, so Rami reaches down to unbuckle his seatbelt and then leans forward, pressing his lips to Joe’s. Rami reaches up, cupping Joe’s cheek, their mouths moving against each other.

Joe moans softly, reaching out to curl his fingers into Rami’s t-shirt, pulling him in closer, and Rami makes a quiet noise, pulling back once before he leans in to kiss him again, and then once more, smiling as he sits back in his seat.

“Meet me at the beach by six,” Rami says. “You don’t have to come and sit there all day again if you don’t want to— you are supposed to be writing, you know.” He winks at Joe.

“I do,” Joe says, “I do know that.”

“I’ve been feeling sort of guilty,” Rami says, and Joe frowns. “I don’t want to distract you.”

“Well,” Joe says, smiling, “the more you distract me the longer I have to stay, right?”

Rami just blinks a couple times, nodding. “Right,” he says. “Yeah.” He clears his throat, then gives Joe a quick smile. “Sleep well, yeah?”

Joe nods, his smile fading a bit at the change in Rami’s tone. “You too. Thank you for tonight. The movie was great.”

Rami smiles again, but it’s brighter this time, seems more real. “You didn’t understand it,” he says.

Joe shrugs, opening the car door. “Must one _understand_ art?” he asks. “Isn’t it enough that I got to sit in an air-conditioned movie theatre with a really cute guy and eat a bunch of popcorn and candy?”

Rami laughs. “It’s enough for me, anyway,” he says, and Joe looks over at him as he climbs out of the car. “Though, I also understood the movie.”

“Fine, whatever,” Joe says. “Okay. I don’t know when I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rami nods eagerly. “Bye Joe,” he says. “Maybe sleep in tomorrow. You look like you got a lot of sun today.”

“God, am I burned?” Joe asks, closing the door, and Rami just laughs. 

“Bye Joe,” he says again, and Joe steps away from the car, watching Rami pull away. 

Joe watches for a few moments longer before he just raises his arm up, and then he walks towards the hotel. He heads upstairs, kicking off his shoes as he steps inside the room, and he walks into the bathroom, flicking on the light. He grimaces a bit; he’s definitely burned, but it’s not terrible. He’s surprised he’s managed to avoid it for this long; he’ll definitely need more sunscreen if he plans on spending the rest of his time there on the beach. Which it seems like he does.

Joe sighs, flicking the lights off again, walking back out into the room. He heads over to the balcony, like he does every night now, looking out over the lights of the town, this time imagining Rami driving back to his house. _Does_ he plan on going back to the beach every day? Joe taps his foot a couple times, sighing. He thinks he’s at risk of coming off as pretty fucking desperate, if he hasn’t already over the past week. Who goes to the beach every day and just sits around for hours hoping that a guy might come over to talk to him? On the other hand, Joe can’t help this feeling in his stomach that says if one day he doesn’t show up, Rami might be a little heartbroken.

Well, that’s a strong word, Joe thinks. Might be a little… _disappointed_. Joe’s not sure he has Rami’s heart to break.

Joe looks at the time, sighing, and then goes to the desk, taking out his laptop and sitting down. There’s no more writing getting done today, that’s for damn sure. But he can at least call home. And try not to sound _too_ excited when he talks about going to see a movie with that guy he met on the beach.

“Oh my god, try this,” Rami says, pushing a plate towards Joe. “This is one of my favourites, I have to get it like, once a week. At least.”

Joe smiles at Rami, picking up the mushroom tapa, taking a bite. “Holy shit,” he says almost immediately, mouth still full, and Rami just smiles, nodding at him.

“I know, right?”

Joe hadn’t gone down to the beach right away that day, but he didn’t wait until six o’clock either; he’d shown up a couple hours beforehand, without his laptop, wearing a slightly nicer version of the clothes he’d been wearing the day before, in case Rami’s friends suggested they go out clubbing again. Who knows what they might get up to this time?

Not much, frankly, just drinks and food at another restaurant in town, but it’s pretty perfect to Joe. He could sit and watch Rami and listen to him for hours, it seems. And he does. They’ve been there for at least a couple hours already, and they just keep ordering and talking, and Rami just keeps smiling, sharing more stories about strange tourists he’s encountered, the massive waves that hit the island that forced people to evacuate, the movies that get filmed there, a great white that was seen not that long ago. As Joe takes a drink, part of him wonders how often Rami gets a chance to actually _talk_ to people, if all of these words have just been bubbling up inside him, waiting for someone to listen. Rami’s talked Joe’s ear off for over a week so far, and shows no sign of stopping.

“Can you tell us apart?” Rami asks, leaning over the table with his phone, showing Joe a picture of him and his brother when they were children.

“Well, I haven’t met him,” Joe says, and Rami smiles.

“I _know_ ,” Rami says, “but can you tell which one’s me? That should narrow it down.”

Joe laughs at that, and Rami’s smile grows, making Joe’s heart flutter. “Uh, I think… _that_ one’s you,” he says, and Rami nods, sitting back in his chair, looking back at his phone. “Here’s the two of us the last time I was home,” he says, showing Joe the screen again. Joe looks at Rami’s phone, eyes widening a bit. 

“What’s that look for?” Rami asks, and Joe takes a drink, shrugging, before he looks back down at the photo. It’s Rami and his brother, Sami, leaning against a wall, both dressed in black, Rami’s head resting on Sami’s shoulder.

“Nothing,” Joe says.

“What?” Rami asks insistently, and Joe just laughs.

“I— he’s hot,” Joe says, and he takes another drink.

“Joe!” Rami says loudly, looking at his phone. He smiles at Joe. “So, should I take that as a compliment?” he asks.

“Uh, yes,” Joe says, nodding. “So should he. When’s he coming to Tenerife?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, shut up,” Rami says. “Like I’d let you anywhere _near_ him.”

“Why not?” Joe asks. “That ashamed of me?”

“No,” Rami says, shifting in his seat. He smiles, taking a drink. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Well,” Joe says. “What _do_ you mean?”

Rami just shakes his head, taking another drink. “You know,” he says, and he sits back in his seat, looking around the restaurant. “If I ordered more of these, would you eat some?” he asks, nudging at the plate of mushroom tapas.

“I don’t know,” Joe says. 

“Oh, you don’t like them?” Rami asks.

“No, it’s not that,” Joe says, “they’re delicious. But I’m scared if I eat too many you’re going to slap my hands away or something.”

Rami laughs loudly at that. “No! I wouldn’t. I— I’m going to order more. Let’s order more. Are you busy tonight, or can you stay out with me?”

Joe smiles at Rami. “Where else would I be?” he asks, voice gentle.

Rami smiles back at him. “I don’t know,” he says. “But I’m glad you’re here. I’ll be right back.” He pushes his chair back from the table, going up to order more, and Joe just watches him, taking another drink. Rami glances back at him as he waits at the bar, and then he does a double-take when he realizes that Joe’s watching him. Rami laughs and then gives Joe a quick wave, and Joe waves back.

Another night, and they’re out again, Joe feeling a bit tired from the writing he struggled with today, but Rami’s as enthusiastic as ever. Rami drums his fingers on the table, taking a drink and looking around. “I feel like I want you to _see_ something,” he says.

Joe smiles. “Like what?” he asks. “You’ve shown me— I’ve seen…stuff.”

Rami laughs softly. “I’m sure you have,” he says. “Like, the lighthouse. Have you gone to the lighthouse?”

Joe shakes his head. He saw it off in the distance when he went for a walk on one of his first days there, before he met Rami, but he wasn’t interested in getting that much closer. He wasn’t sure if it was allowed, so why bother. And Rami must know that Joe hasn’t seen it since; Joe spends all his time at the beach or eating and drinking with Rami.

“Not tonight, obviously,” Rami says. “It looks better in the day. It’s a nice walk. Well, the ocean looks nice anyway.” He smiles at Joe.

“So what can you show me tonight?” Joe asks, and then he swallows hard, thinking how suggestive that sounds. He didn’t really mean it that way, but he also wouldn’t protest if…that’s how Rami took it.

Rami drums his fingers a couple more times. “Let me think about it,” he says.

The sun’s almost set when they leave the restaurant, and Rami looks around, then nods towards the road. They cross, and Rami looks back at Joe, smiling. “I’m not sure how much of a view it is at this time of night,” he says. “But maybe it’s nicer than I think.” Rami leads Joe down a stone staircase, and Joe looks around. He’s seen where they’re going before, they’ve walked by it a few times, including when they went to the pool that first night, but they’ve never actually gone out onto it. It’s an observation deck, jutting out into the water, a small stone lighthouse in the middle that Joe thinks is just for decoration.

“It’s quiet at this time of day, anyway,” Rami says, looking over at Joe as they slowly walk over the stone ground. “Not much to observe.” He walks further out, and looks back at Joe, who’s stopped. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Joe says softly. “Just taking in the view.”

Rami smiles at him, bashfully looking away. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Come on.” He walks out to the end of the observation deck, and sits down on the edge.

Joe’s pretty sure if the lifeguards were at the nearby pool, they’d tell Rami to get up or he might get swept into the ocean, but Joe just shrugs and sits down next to Rami anyway.

“There’s the lighthouse,” Rami says, pointing his finger off into the distance where Joe can see the light flashing. “It doesn’t look like any lighthouse you’ve ever seen before, I can tell you that. It’s like modern art.”

Joe smiles at Rami, shifting on the cold wet stone. The waves aren’t rough, but there’s still a bit of wind misting the water onto them, and he shivers, smiling.

“Obviously you can’t see anything anyway,” Rami says. “On this side of the island it’s just more ocean for thousands of miles.”

“Doesn’t it scare you?” Joe asks.

“What?” Rami asks.

Joe shrugs. “I don’t know. Living so…isolated.”

“We’re not _that_ isolated,” Rami says. “We’re only two hundred miles away from Africa. There’s an airport like, twenty minutes away from here.”

“Fair,” Joe says. “But being in the ocean all day, just…that doesn’t creep you out?”

“Creep me…” Rami smiles at Joe. “What do you mean? Are you scared of the water?”

“No,” Joe says, shaking his head. “I just know that like, it’s…people die in it.”

“I think more people die on land, technically,” Rami says, smiling.

Joe rolls his eyes, sighing. “Fine,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Rami says, “I…you _are_ right, people die in it. Every year.”

“Really?” Joe asks.

Rami nods. “Sure. I think it was twenty last year on Tenerife alone.” He looks at Joe. “Is this what you _really_ want to talk about?” he asks. “How I’ve chosen a dangerous job, thousands of miles away from all my family and friends, and…” Rami shakes his head as he trails off. “That’s not what _I_ want to talk about,” he says.

“What do you want to talk about?” Joe asks, gently clearing his throat, shifting closer to Rami.

Rami smiles. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “I think I brought you here hoping you’d want to kiss me again.”

“Is that so?” Joe asks, and Rami nods, eyes flicking from Joe’s eyes to his mouth and back again. Joe swallows hard and then leans in, kissing him as Rami lifts his arms up, wrapping one around Joe’s shoulders, his other hand reaching out to take Joe’s, holding onto him as their mouths move against each other. Rami pulls back to shift on the stone, and then leans back in, making a quiet noise against Joe’s mouth.

Joe’s fingers tighten in Rami’s, and he reaches up with his other hand, cupping the back of Rami’s head, holding him close. He licks at Rami’s mouth and Rami moans, it’s like he melts against Joe, and they keep kissing until they lose all track— the only sounds are them and the water, everything else is drowned out. “Rami,” Joe says, eventually pulling back, reluctantly at that, and he swallows hard.

“Yeah?” Rami asks, voice sounding a little rough.

“I…” Joe wets his lips and kisses Rami again, and then pulls back. “I really want to touch you,” he says softly. He meets Rami’s eyes. “Will you come back to my hotel with me?”

Rami swallows hard. “I…don’t know if that’s for the best,” he says, clearing his throat. “I wouldn’t want to…” He looks away. “There’s nobody here,” he says eventually, shrugging.

“ _Here_?” Joe asks in surprise. “It’s— it’s the middle of— anybody could see us! And…well, it’s cold water and hard stone, that sounds like not…” He squeezes Rami’s hand. “Not here,” he says.

Rami nods. “No, that was stupid,” he says softly. “I—” He looks at Joe. “I…want you to touch me too,” he says.

“Yeah?” Joe asks, and Rami nods, so Joe leans in, kissing him again.

“But once you start,” Rami says in between kisses, “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to stop.”

Joe moans against Rami’s mouth, kissing him harder. “Is that so bad?” he asks.

Rami nods, fingers digging into Joe as they keep kissing. “I— god, Joe, I—”

“Come on,” Joe says, lips brushing against Rami’s mouth, “your place then, it’s closer.” He moves his mouth to Rami’s neck, sucking on his skin there. 

“I— Joe, we can’t, I—” Rami moans softly, and then pulls away. “Come on,” he says, standing up, taking Joe by the hand. They hurry off the observation deck, Rami leading them towards the beach, digging into his pocket with his other hand. Rami pauses to take out his keys, and leans in, kissing Joe’s neck again, unable to stop touching him before Rami just laughs, pulling away again. “This is quicker.”

“What?” Joe asks, watching as Rami leads them to one of the small surf huts on the beach, unlocking the door.

“Come on,” Rami says, glancing back at Joe as he peels off his shirt, dropping it to the floor as he toes off his sneakers. “It’s private, I swear, only like, three of us have the key to this one. Close the door.”

Joe looks at Rami, watching him unbutton his shorts, and then Joe just nods, closing the door behind him, locking it. He gives a brief glance to the building itself; there’s a couple older surfboards in there, wetsuits, a first aid kit. It’s a glorified storage shed, except there’s also some semblance of decoration— posters on the wall, a small shelf of books. No bed, though, Joe notes with disappointment. His plan to lay Rami out and cover his body with his while Rami moans in his ear looks like it’s not happening. But he blinks, and Rami’s standing there naked, and Joe just swallows hard.

“Come on,” Rami says, and he turns around, looking for something, so Joe takes off his shoes and his shirt, and Rami unfolds a couple large beach towels, spreading them out on the floor. Joe keeps getting undressed, but he doesn’t understand why they’re in a _shack_ , about to fuck on the floor with _towels_ instead of being at Rami’s house, which is maybe another five minutes away. Sure, Joe didn’t see much of his place, but it looked nice enough. And he’s never mentioned roommates.

Rami settles down on the floor, looking up at Joe, smiling as he starts to stroke himself, and Joe swallows hard, hurrying out of his clothes, kneeling down on the towels next to Rami. Rami leans in, kissing Joe, and then braces his hands against him, pushing him back onto the floor. Rami shifts, lifting his leg to settle on Joe’s lap, leaning down to keep kissing him as he starts to rock against Joe.

“Rami, I—” Joe’s back arches a bit as his cock hardens, Rami’s brushing against his. “Can I touch you?” he asks, and Rami nods, so Joe leans up, kissing him, as he moves one hand down over Rami’s back, pausing briefly at his hip to guide Rami against him, but he moves his hand further down, gripping at his ass. Joe kisses him again, and then moves his hand again, reaching out his fingers to start gently teasing at Rami’s hole, feeling him clench.

“Oh, god,” Rami moans, back arching a bit, and he pushes back against Joe’s grip. “Oh yes,” he says, sighing. 

Joe reaches down with his other hand, wrapping his fingers around both of them as best he can, and starts to stroke. He needs lube or _something_ , there’s just a bit too much friction, and it’s been a long time since it’s been like this; he feels like he’s almost a virgin again, fumbling around with someone in the dark under the covers, trying to get off before his parents come home and catch him. Except he and Rami are grown men, and he still doesn’t know why they’re not in a _bed_ , but— 

“Joe,” Rami moans, head falling forward, shoulders slumped as he starts moving faster against him, thrusting into Joe’s hand. “Oh fuck, Joe, yes, I— there.” He groans, gritting down on a sound, and then he gasps. Rami presses his forehead to Joe’s chest, and then he shifts, pressing kisses to Joe’s skin, laughing softly.

“Wha— what?” Joe asks, trying to look at him while keeping his hand moving over them.

“Just this burn here,” Rami says softly, and he ducks his head, pressing a kiss to the line on his bicep between Joe’s pale skin and where he’s red. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Rami says, and he arches up, panting harshly.

“Look who’s talking,” Joe grits out, and Rami smiles a dreamy smile. They’re both so hard they’re leaking now, easing Joe’s strokes and Rami’s thrusts against his stomach. Rami sits up, rocking against Joe like he’s riding him now, and Joe fucking wishes he was, but still, if he were to die in the next ten minutes, this is a pretty amazing way to go.

“Oh my god,” Rami groans, “oh my _god_ , yes, harder, I— Joe, I—”

Their sounds just echo in the small room, all Joe can focus on is Rami’s moans and the sound of his own harsh breathing. He squeezes a bit harder and then Rami lets out a delightful squeal, and curls forward, kissing Joe deeply, and Joe keeps stroking them until Rami comes, shooting onto Joe’s stomach. Rami nuzzles against him, whining softly as he keeps thrusting against Joe, and then he works his hand in between them, trailing his fingers over the head of Joe’s cock, teasing him. Joe gasps loudly, over and over, until his muscles tense and he comes as well with a loud groan, and Rami leans over him, kissing him deeply. Joe’s hips jerk and thrust up in the aftershocks, until finally he rests back agains the floor, breathing heavily as Rami pulls away.

Rami makes a quiet noise, shifting his weight on Joe, half moving to the floor beside him, but he stays curled up against him, pressing soft kisses to Joe’s arm over and over.

Joe reaches over with his other arm, gently playing with Rami’s hair, closing his eyes and making a quiet noise. He swallows hard, and Rami lifts his head, looking up at him.

“That was amazing,” Rami says softly, kissing him.

Joe smiles faintly as he pulls back, nodding. “Yeah,” he agrees, stretching out on the floor with a soft groan. He looks around a bit more, actually looking at the photos on the wall, the books on the shelf. “Is this place yours?” Joe asks.

Rami shrugs. “Sort of, yeah,” he says, nuzzling against Joe’s chest. “Sometimes it’s just easier than dragging the board home and back. Keep it in here. Sometimes you get caught in the rain, and I just…come in here, read, wait for it to pass.”

“That sounds nice,” Joe says softly, and Rami nods.

“It is,” he agrees. “Yeah, I…I really like it here.”

Joe smiles, and turns, pressing a kiss to Rami’s forehead, then he takes a deep breath and kisses him again. “The whole island, or just _here_ , specifically.”

Rami smiles, lifting his head up, looking down at Joe. “Right now?” he asks. “Here, specifically.”

Joe’s heart feels like it skips a beat and his stomach twists, and he just can’t wipe the smile off his face, even as Rami leans down, kissing him again.

They lay there together for awhile, quietly talking, kissing some more. When they stand up to start getting ready, Joe looks down at his stomach, making a bit of a face.

“Come on,” Rami says, opening the door, glancing around outside. “No one’s here.” Joe must look obviously confused, because Rami just sighs a bit and then grins. “Clean off in the water before you get dressed.”

“You _love_ skinny dipping,” Joe says, and Rami laughs.

“Fine, go back to the hotel covered in come,” Rami says, “I won’t lose any sleep over it.” He turns, walking out of the hut, walking across the sand to the water.

“What about sharks?” Joe calls out.

“Oh my god,” Rami says, “we’re not going _in_ , just clean up!” He reaches down, cupping the water, splashing it over his stomach. “Any shark that can kill me _on_ the sand deserves the win.”

Joe sighs and peeks his head out, glancing around before he hurries over to Rami, reaching his hands down into the water.

“Shark!” Rami exclaims, and Joe gasps and jumps, hurrying a few feet back up the sand.

“You asshole,” Joe says, and Rami smiles.

“Come on, I had to,” Rami says. “Come here, I’ll clean you up.” He reaches his hands down into the water, cupping them, and then looks at Joe expectantly.

Joe smiles at Rami and steps a bit closer to him, and then Joe laughs loudly when Rami just tosses the water at him. “Come on, stop it!” Joe says, and Rami laughs. Joe walks back to the water and reaches down, wiping off his own stomach and his hands, and then he looks at Rami, shaking his head. “You’re bullying me.”

“I’m sorry,” Rami says, taking Joe’s hand, walking back up to the surf hut. They step inside, get dressed again, using the towels to dry off, and then Rami locks the door as they step back out onto the beach. Rami looks over at Joe, and then leans in, giving him a kiss.

“What was that for?” Joe asks, smiling, and Rami shrugs.

“I just like kissing you,” he says, smiling back. “Come on,” he says, “let me drive you home. Or— the hotel, you know what I mean.”

Joe looks at Rami as he walks alongside him, heading towards Rami’s house; he doesn’t understand why they could just do _that_ together, but Joe’s not allowed to sleep over. But he doesn’t argue it either. They walk back to Rami’s house and get in his car, and drive the short drive back to the hotel. 

Rami puts the car in park, giving Joe a nervous smile before he looks down.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asks.

“Nothing,” Rami says softly, and then he clears his throat. “Nothing.”

Joe frowns a bit. “It doesn’t seem like nothing,” he says.

“It’s— I was thinking,” Rami says. “About what I said, about wanting you to see things.” He gives Joe a hesitant smile.

“Okay,” Joe says easily. “Whatever you want to show me.”

Rami’s smile grows. “Okay. Well, I— I know you’re busy writing. And I’m busy all day tomorrow,” he says, “but the next couple days after, I’m off.” He looks at Joe. “Can I…take you out?”

Joe slowly smiles. “Take me out where?” he asks.

Rami shrugs. “I— I have a couple ideas,” he says. “Do you hike?”

“Uh…I can?” Joe says hesitantly. “Like, where? Up a mountain?”

“Well, not _both_ ways,” Rami says. “It’s called Masca. It’s a couple hours from here, it’s…really pretty. The hike isn’t _hard_ , there will be tourists there, but it’s just…I want you to see more of Tenerife than just here.”

Joe looks at Rami, smiling faintly. “When you say _not hard_ , you’re keeping in mind that you’re an athlete, right? And I’m…not.”

Rami smiles. “It’s three hours,” he says.

“Okay,” Joe says hesitantly.

“Each way.”

Joe’s eyes just about pop out his head, and Rami laughs.

“ _Or_ ,” Rami says quickly, “ _or_ — we could drive to one of the nearby towns, Los Gigantes, park, take the taxi to Masca. Explore a bit, if you want, and then do the first half of the hike.”

“And then what?” Joe asks. “Just live in the wilderness?”

Rami laughs again. “The hike ends at the ocean. You can catch a boat from there back to Los Gigantes.” He shrugs. “Then we can do whatever. Spend the day there, or leave. We could go to Santa Cruz on the way back, it’s the capital of the island, you know. I don’t know, just make a day of it. I know you have to work, though.” He looks down again, and Joe shakes his head.

“That sounds amazing,” Joe says, and Rami looks up, smiling.

“Yeah?” Rami asks, and Joe nods.

“That’s…yeah,” Joe says. “I want to see the island. As much of it as you want to show me.” He smiles at Rami, and Rami leans in, kissing him. “So, should I not come to the beach tomorrow?” Joe asks.

Rami smiles, shrugging. “You can if you want,” he says. “But I have three different lessons, so. I won’t stop you if you want to say hi, but I’m planning on an early night tomorrow. To rest up for our hike.”

“Okay,” Joe says, and he kisses Rami again. “I’ll uh, I’ll walk down around lunch maybe, just to say hi. And check-in about our trip.”

“Okay,” Rami says. Joe kisses him once more, and then climbs out of the car, closing the door and waving as Rami pulls away, driving back off into the night. Joe sighs softly, not sure why he and Rami aren’t going to bed together. As he walks towards the hotel and heads up to his room, a sad sort of feeling twists in his gut— the idea that he’s just a tourist to Rami, just a…god, even just the thought of it makes him feel sort of sick, but that this is just what Rami does. He meets guys on the beach, shows them a good time while they’re here, and then moves onto the next as soon as the first one leaves.

Joe flicks on the lights of his room, taking off his shoes and walking into the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and he shakes his head. He doesn’t believe that, or maybe he just doesn’t _want_ to believe that. Rami’s sweet, and kind, and a bit too confident sometimes, just too much fun, but Joe doesn’t really think he’s one of a long line of guys that Rami fucks in his surf hut.

Or maybe he is. Or maybe Rami’s got a boyfriend or a family waiting for him back in his stupid yellow house. 

Joe groans loudly, clutching at the counter. “That’s not true,” he tells himself, “it’s not.” He shakes his head. He doesn’t know what it is, maybe Rami doesn’t really trust _him_ ; he’s scared to be really alone with him, somewhere that nobody can hear Rami yell for help if he needs it.

Then why are they going on a hike together? Two hours away? “Maybe Rami’s a virgin,” Joe says to himself as he starts getting ready for bed. “Maybe he’s never had sex and he’s not ready— he’s religious. It’s Spain, maybe he’s super Catholic, and— well, he’s not Spanish though. He’s from Indiana. Who do you know from Indiana, do they have premarital sex there?”

Joe talks to himself until he’s tucked into bed, having sent a few messages to people back home. He posts another photo on Instagram, and then he groans, tossing his phone away, burying his head under his pillow.

Whatever doubts he may have about…whatever is going on between them, Joe’s pretty sure he just completely falls in love with Rami on their trip to Masca. Rami has _great_ taste in music— the conversation between them in the car doesn’t pause often, but when it does, Rami just softly sings along to the radio, and Joe can’t help but smile. By the time they park the car in Los Gigantes and get in the taxi, Joe’s face is practically aching from how much he grinned at Rami.

“It’s probably for the best that we’re taking the water taxi back,” Rami says, shifting in his seat, leaning closer to Joe.

“Why’s that?” Joe asks.

“The road gets a little…uh.” Rami reaches up, scratching at his forehead, smiling. “Treacherous.”

“Geesh, that’s a good word,” Joe says. “Descriptive.”

“Thanks,” Rami nods. “I’m just saying, a lot of people, sometimes…they have to get locals to drive their car back down the mountain, it’s too scary otherwise.”

“Good god,” Joe says, and Rami laughs, and there it is, Joe can’t help but smile again.

Rami wasn’t lying— treacherous is a _great_ word for it. The drive to Los Gigantes was fine, just a regular highway drive. But the road from Los Gigantes to Masca is all steep switchbacks, and a few times Joe has to close his eyes and just nervously press himself back against the seat, silently praying that they’ll survive as the car jerks around. It’s during those moments that Rami takes Joe’s hand and snuggles against him, quietly talking to him, trying to comfort him. At one point, the taxi meets a bus that is driving back downhill, and the road is so narrow, the taxi has to carefully reverse far enough for the bus to squeeze by, and Joe genuinely thinks he’s going to burst into tears. Rami squeezes his hand and softly shushes him, and Joe just nods.

Joe basically falls out of the taxi, desperate to be on his own two feet again. He wants to lay down on the ground where everything is steady. He can’t even focus on the view right now, who the fuck needs to _see_? He can’t think of anything else except being _so_ happy that they’re catching a boat later because he _cannot_ do that again. He tugs his backpack on, and then finally blinks a couple times, taking the whole thing in. “Holy shit,” he says softly.

“Come here,” Rami says, waving Joe over to the edge of the parking lot, which is an actual _edge_ — Joe leans forward over the barrier, looking down the mountain. “What do you think?” Rami asks.

“I…” Joe looks at Rami, and then looks around, in awe of the view. “It’s gorgeous, yeah. I…yeah. Wow.”

“Yeah?” Rami asks. “I know, I love it here too. Maybe the drive was worth it?” Joe’s stomach turns a bit, and Rami smiles. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen someone that green before.”

“Please stop,” Joe says, and Rami takes his hand.

“Come on, the look-out is up this way,” Rami says. “Then we can grab something to eat— maybe not,” he says, looking at Joe again.

“Gimme a minute,” Joe says, and he and Rami fall in-step alongside each other as they walk the short distance up to the look-out, as Rami talks about the village, and what he knows about the history, and the restaurants here. Rami lets go of Joe’s hand to eagerly lean over the barricade, and Joe reaches out instinctively, resting his hand on Rami’s back, fingers curling into Rami’s shirt.

Rami looks back at him, grinning. “I won’t fall,” he says. “Promise.”

“Well, if you _planned_ on falling,” Joe says, “you’d be pretty dumb.”

“Just look,” Rami says softly, turning back to the view of the Macizo de Teno mountains. “Can’t you imagine just…buying a tiny house here, walking through the mountains every day for exercise?”

“I…” Joe shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know about _that_ ,” he says. “But it is gorgeous. I need a bit more civilization than this. Why don’t you live here, though?”

Rami shrugs. “I teach people how to surf. Arenal is one of the best beaches for beginners on the island. I can’t leave that.”

“Fair enough,” Joe says. “I trust you know better than I do.”

“When it comes to surfing?” Rami asks. “Yes.” He laughs a bit.

Joe takes out his phone, snapping a few pictures, including a couple of Rami looking out over the view. “Rami?” he asks.

“Oh, do you want me to take a photo of you?” Rami asks, holding his hand out.

“I was wondering if you wanted to take a photo _with_ me,” Joe says.

Rami drops his hand back down by his side. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course!” Joe exclaims. “I…yeah.”

“Okay,” Rami says, and he turns, standing next to Joe, and Joe reaches his phone out, taking a selfie.

“Oh, let me,” a woman a few feet away from them says, shifting her child out of her arms and into the arms of a man standing nearby. 

Joe smiles, and he hands his phone over to her, then wraps his arm around Rami’s waist, and she takes a couple photos of Rami and Joe together, the mountains and the village in the background. “Thank you,” Joe says, offering to take a few photos of her and her family together as well, and then he looks back at Rami, who’s smiling at him. “What?” Joe asks.

Rami shrugs. “Nothing,” he says, but he keeps smiling. “I just…that was sweet.”

“It’d be rude not to offer after she did,” Joe says.

“No,” Rami says, “well— no. I meant. Us. Together.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Joe says. “I— those photos are going to be my best souvenir of this whole trip.”

Rami’s smile falters a bit, but then he just puts it right back on. “Yeah!” he says enthusiastically, and then he looks away. “How’s your stomach?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Uh, I could probably go for something…light,” Joe says. “I wouldn’t mind something before we start. Just quick.”

“Okay,” Rami says, and they cross the street to a large white building with a sign reading Bar Restaurante, and they go inside. They each buy a drink and small snack, and then eat it outside at one of the picnic tables.

“How many times have you done the full hike, both ways?” Joe asks.

Rami nods as he chews, then swallows hard. “Uh, a few times a year, honestly,” he says. “I really love it.”

“Do you always bring someone with you?” Joe asks, before he can think to stop himself, because he can’t get the idea out of his head that this is just a _thing_ Rami does, and Rami frowns a bit, shaking his head.

“No,” he says, “not always. Sometimes a friend comes with me, though.”

Joe takes a drink, then tries to fix it, nudging Rami’s foot under the table, smiling. “Well, thank you for bringing _me_ ,” he says. “It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Rami says, seeming to relax a bit more. He smiles back, and bumps his foot against Joe’s as well.

They throw out their trash and head back into the restaurant to use the bathroom; Joe looks over the display souvenirs he waits for Rami to be done, and then Rami starts leading Joe through the town, down to the hiking path. The village sits at the head of the Masca Gorge, and the trail follows the gorge down to the beach on the ocean. Rami glances at his watch, making sure they’ve got plenty of time to meet the boat at the beach, and then he looks at Joe. “Ready?” he asks.

Joe narrows his eyes. “What do all these yellow hazard signs mean?” he asks, and Rami sighs. 

“ _Joey_ ,” he says, and Joe’s eyebrows shoot up a bit, because that’s a new one. “You’re safe, I promise. I _really_ promise. I’m not trying to get you hurt or killed. We’ll go slow and be careful. You can trust me.”

Joe looks at Rami, and frankly, even if he knew he had a ninety percent chance of dying on this hike, he’d probably still take that risk. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay, good,” Rami says, smiling. He leans in, giving Joe a quick kiss, and then they start walking.

The upper half of the gorge has the best views, and even though Joe’s sure Rami is a bit annoyed and just not saying anything, Joe stops more than he should just to look around, and yes, take a few photos. They basically follow a stream down the gorge; Joe can’t always see it, but he can hear it. He knows what Rami means now, that it isn’t difficult. It’s not _hard_ , but he thinks you’d definitely have to be reasonably fit, and reasonably sure-footed. It’s still tiring though, and they stop a couple times to drink and have a snack.

“Are you doing okay?” Rami asks, glancing over at Joe. “It gets a bit harder the further down we go.”

“Sure,” Joe nods, but he still feels a bit nervous about what that means.

What that means is, at one point, they have to walk along a ledge above the stream, holding onto a wire rope for safety. Joe doesn’t consider himself afraid of heights, but this isn’t the most pleasant thing he’s ever done.

“Will it help if I distract you?” Rami asks gently, and Joe tightly shakes his head.

“Nope, please stop talking, I can’t,” Joe says, and Rami nods, staying quiet until they’re past the worst of it. “I’m sorry,” Joe says once they’re back on surer footing. “That was rude.”

“It was okay,” Rami says. “I’d rather you tell me that than end up slipping because I won’t shut up.” He smiles at Joe. “It’s scary, I know. You’re doing well, though.”

“Thanks,” Joe says, trying to take a deep breath.

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” Rami says, and Joe nods. _It already is_ , he thinks. “You know,” Rami continues as they keep walking. “Masca used to be totally closed off. The road was only developed in the ‘90s, I think. If you wanted to get there, you had to ride a donkey. Or hike.”

Joe looks at Rami. “I honestly don’t know if that’s true or not.”

Rami laughs. “Why would I lie?” he asks. “It’s true! It just makes you wonder, how something like that even came to be. Like…the time and effort it would take to get there. How hard it would be. And then you have to decide if it’s worth it.” He looks at Joe, and Joe feels his eyes on him, and he wonders if Rami is talking about more than just Masca.

After they’ve been hiking for close to three-and-a-half hours, Rami looks over at Joe, smiling. “Can you hear it yet?” he asks.

“Hear what?” Joe asks.

“The _ocean_ ,” Rami says excitedly. They round a bend, and Joe looks ahead, thinking that he can see the water between the rocks and the vegetation. The ground is rocky, but flat, and he smiles. 

“We’re here?” he asks, and Rami nods.

“Playa de Masca,” Rami says happily.

The beach itself isn’t much of one, at least not one that looks very comfortable. From Rami’s description of the cove, Joe was expecting some sort of paradise, but it’s all huge black rocks that look like they’d hurt to stand on. It’s still fucking gorgeous, though, and Joe looks around in awe. He’s been hiking through the mountains for three goddamn hours, and that water looks better than any water has ever looked before.

“People swim here, right?” Joe asks, and Rami nods. “Thank _fuck_ ,” he says, and Rami laughs. “How long do we have until the boat picks us up?”

Rami glances at his watch. “Less than an hour,” he says. “That’s okay?”

“That’s great,” Joe says. They take off their shirts, and trade their sneakers in for sandals, to avoid cutting their feet. They take a few drinks before Rami leads Joe out into the water, holding his hand. They swim out until they’re deep enough to duck under the water and avoid any rocks, and Rami just smiles at Joe as they tread water, curls stuck to his forehead.

“Tell me it was worth it,” Rami says, and Joe ducks his head under water again, nodding.

“It really, really was,” Joe says, looking around the cove. “God.”

Rami grins. “Aren’t you glad we don’t have to hike back up?” he asks.

“I would literally die,” Joe says. “I would die, there’s no other way around it.”

Rami just laughs, nodding. “Yeah, I thought you might say that.”

After a few more minutes of cooling down, they get out of the water and dry off a bit before they pull their shirts back on. There’s a dock that leads out from the beach onto the water, and they wait at the end for their boat to arrive. Rami takes a drink from his water bottle, and keeps smiling at Joe.

“What?” Joe asks.

“Nothing,” Rami says. “Just look.”

Joe turns, looking back at the gorge, the palm trees and the rocks. “Yeah?” he asks, looking at Rami.

Rami smiles and shrugs. “We did that,” he says. “Wasn’t it fun?”

Joe smiles, nodding. “Yeah, it was,” he says, and Rami nods as well, playfully bumping his shoulder against Joe’s. 

“Good,” Rami says, and he reaches down, gently locking his fingers with Joe’s.

The water taxi comes to pick them up, along with a few more hikers, and they carefully climb onto the boat, snuggling together, Joe’s arm around Rami’s shoulders. It’s a short ride, twenty minutes back to Los Gigantes, which feels a bit ridiculous considering how long they were hiking for. 

They sit, looking out at the water, and Joe just snuggles a bit closer to Rami, leaning in to kiss his temple. Rami smiles, and reaches up, squeezing the hand Joe has resting on his shoulder. Joe has to practically bite down on his tongue to keep from saying something that might scare Rami off. Because as much as Joe hopes that this isn’t just a…joke that Rami likes to play, or something he does to keep from getting bored, the fact is that Joe’s just there on vacation. And Rami _lives_ there; he has a house and a job. Joe thinking that he’s falling in love with Rami won’t change any of that.

“Do you want to eat when we get back to Los Gigantes?” Rami asks, breaking the silence.

“Is there anywhere good there?” Joe asks. “You know best.”

“Could we go see a movie?” Rami asks. “I think sitting in an air-conditioned room for two hours sounds _really_ nice right about now.”

Joe grins. “That sounds good to me,” he says.

“And let’s stop in Santa Cruz on the way back,” Rami says, “for something to eat. And I can show you the Palmetum.”

Joe nods, kissing Rami’s temple again. “Whatever you want,” he says softly, and Rami smiles, settling closer to Joe.


	3. Chapter 3

“You really should let me teach you how to surf.”

Joe’s fingers pause on the keyboard, and he looks over at Rami, who’s sunbathing beside him in between lessons. It’s been a few days since their trip to Masca, and though Joe feels they’re now closer than ever (he’s come to see Rami as his actual _boyfriend_ , not that that they’ve discussed that in any way, shape, or form), they still haven’t slept together, or done anything more than fool around a bit in Rami’s surf hut. Their days are still much of the same; Rami’s had a couple afternoons off, and they’ve driven around to other parts of the island, but for the most part, they stick to Punta del Hidalgo, and around Playa Arenal in particular. They eat, they talk, they kiss. Rami surfs, and Joe writes— he’s over halfway done now, and as excited as his agent is about it, and sure Joe likes the accomplishment as well, he’s sort of dreading what happens when he’s just…done.

“And why would I do that?” Joe asks.

Rami smiles, and shrugs. “Because I want to see it.”

“Ah,” Joe says, nodding once and looking back at his computer. “You want to laugh at me.”

“Well, I don’t know about _that_ ,” Rami says. “But I mean, sure. That would _probably_ be a benefit.”

“To _you_ , you mean,” Joe says.

Rami shrugs again, and his smile just grows. “It would get you off the beach, at least.”

“I can go back to my room, if you prefer that,” Joe says, and he looks at Rami again, and Rami looks at Joe for a moment, before giving a small shake of his head. “I— look, do I respect the fact that you can surf?” Joe says. “Yes. Do I want _anything_ to do with it? No!”

Rami laughs again, settling back on the sand. “I just think that you would feel really proud of yourself for getting on your feet on the board. Everybody always does. You know I’m not out there teaching beginners how to Kerrupt Flip, right?”

Joe sighs. “You know I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a full rotation alley-oop, combined with a mute and stalefish grab.”

Joe looks over at Rami, who’s just grinning. “I can make up words too,” Joe says, and Rami laughs.

“Okay, give me one,” Rami says.

Joe opens his mouth, and then blinks a couple times. “Shalabamoo,” he says.

“Pfft,” Rami snorts, “that’s totally a word.”

“What?” Joe asks. “No, it’s not.”

“Did you go to that party last night?” Rami asks. “It was a real shalabamoo.”

Joe laughs, and Rami smiles over at him. “Whatever,” Joe says.

Rami pushes himself up, pressing a kiss to Joe’s shoulder as he peers over, looking at Joe’s laptop. “What episode is this?” he asks.

“Just finishing up the fifth,” Joe says, and Rami nods. 

“Close then,” he says quietly, settling back on the sand, glancing at his watch. “Teach this lesson for me?” Rami asks, and Joe laughs.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Joe says. “And get us both sued when they break their neck.”

Rami groans as he pushes himself up, brushing sand off himself, grabbing his t-shirt. “Okay, well, I gotta get ready then,” he says. He leans down, giving Joe a quick kiss. “Bye.”

Joe reaches out, grabbing onto Rami’s wrist to stop him from walking away.

“What?” Rami asks, and Joe smiles.

“I…okay,” Joe says, shrugging.

“Okay…what?” Rami asks, cocking his head to the side a bit.

Joe sighs. “I—” he waves his hand around. “You can give me _one_ lesson.”

“Oh my god,” Rami says eagerly. “Really? I— really?”

“Sure,” Joe nods, and he sort of regrets it already, but Rami looks and sounds so happy that it’s hard to go back on his word. It’s the least he can do for Rami, the least he can give him. “I— whenever you’re free next,” Joe says.

“Okay!” Rami exclaims, nodding. “I— I gotta go teach, but we’ll pick a time when I’m done, okay?”

Joe smiles. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll be here.”

“Bye!” Rami says, waving back at Joe as he hurries off.

“Bye,” Joe says, watching Rami walk away, and he has to practically bite down on his lip to keep _love you_ from slipping out. He wants to groan, but he bites down on that too. He looks back down at his screen; he could probably finish a draft of this episode this afternoon. Hulu asked for six to ten. Joe thinks there’s only two episodes left, _maybe_ three. That doesn’t leave much time for him and Rami. He looks back up, watching Rami get ready. Joe can only smile, and he looks back down, picking up his notebook to avoid staring at him.

“Come on,” Rami says, “you need a board and a wetsuit.”

Joe makes a bit of a face. He can’t believe he’s doing this. Sharks. _Dying_. “That’s gonna…suck,” Joe says, but he follows behind Rami to one of the surf huts anyway. Not _their_ surf hut, thank god; it’s just one of the ones used for lessons and wetsuit rentals. Joe’s not sure he could handle being back at their hut right now. He’d be too turned on to take his lesson. 

Rami watches Joe get changed, playfully averting his eyes whenever Joe glances over at him, and then Rami helps zip him up. Rami picks up a board, and then nods towards the one Joe’s supposed to take— a beginner’s board, much larger than Rami’s. 

“How’s the suit fit?” Rami asks, glancing over at him as they get settled in on the sand.

“Great,” Joe says, but that’s sort of a lie. Well, he supposes it does fit well, but that doesn’t mean he’s enjoying being squeezed into it.

“Here,” Rami says, holding out a water bottle. “Stay hydrated and we’ll warm up first.”

Joe takes a few gulps of water, and then nods. “How badly is this going to go?” he asks.

“We need to open your hips,” Rami says, ignoring his question with a smile, and he starts stretching his legs.

Joe whimpers softly, following Rami’s movements, making a bit of a face when he hears his hip pop. “Whoops,” Joe says, and Rami rolls his eyes, but he’s got a faint smile on his face anyway. 

“You have to take it seriously, you know,” Rami says. “It’s dangerous if you don’t.”

“I know,” Joe says. “I’m here to— I’m a client today, not…” Joe trails off, unsure whether he’s supposed to call himself Rami’s friend, or his boyfriend, or what. “Not me,” he decides on. “Do with me what you want.”

“Careful,” Rami says, then switches positions, doing another stretch. “I’ll hold you to it.” He watches Joe, and then reaches out to adjust his body, patting his side. “Like this,” he says, “you need to feel it.”

“Thanks,” Joe says, and Rami smiles at him. They switch to stretching their shoulders, and Joe watches Rami. “So, what do you talk about with your students?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rami shrugs. “Where they’re from, and what they’re doing in Tenerife. Whatever they like.”

“What do you want to talk about with me?” Joe asks.

Rami smiles. “I’ll let you pick,” he says. “It’s _your_ lesson.”

“Tell me about…” Joe sighs, looking around. “Uh. The history of surfing. Or the history of Tenerife. Your choice.”

“Oh god,” Rami says, laughing softly. “Uh…” He straightens up. “Time for a jog,” he says instead. “Warm up the whole body.”

“Oh my god,” Joe mutters. “Running on the sand?”

“You’re fine,” Rami says, and they start jogging over the beach. “Have you heard of Catalina Lercaro?” he asks, glancing over at Joe.

Joe shakes his head. “No, who’s she?” he asks. “A singer?”

“No,” Rami says, smiling. “She’s the most famous ghost in the Canary Islands.”

Joe laughs in surprise. “That’s— is that your history of Tenerife?” he asks.

Rami shrugs. “It’s the first thing that popped into my head,” he says. “But it does make me think— the house she lived in, where she killed herself—”

“Jesus,” Joe mutters.

“It’s a history museum now,” Rami continues. “That’s where people say you can see her. Would you want to go?”

“To see a ghost?” Joe asks, a bit incredulous.

“No,” Rami says. “I don’t believe in ghosts. I just mean to go see the museum.”

“Oh, then yeah, sure,” Joe nods.

“Cool,” Rami says. He stops, jogging on the spot, and Joe does the same for a few moments. “Alright, jog back,” Rami says. They head back down the beach, not speaking further until they’re back with their boards, and then Rami looks over at Joe. “We practice the take-off and pop up first,” he says.

“Sure thing, boss,” Joe says, and Rami smiles.

“A surfer’s take-off is impacted by their paddling and their positioning,” Rami says, and Joe nods. Rami walks behind Joe, and then gives him a gentle shove.

“What the hell?” Joe asks, taking a step forward to stop himself from falling.

“Sorry,” Rami says, “I had to.” He looks down, nudging Joe’s foot with his. “Huh,” Rami says, “you’re goofy-footed.”

Joe looks down. “What does that mean?” he asks.

“It means when you pop up,” Rami says, “you're going to put your right foot forward, okay? Well, we’ll try it that way, anyway. Once you’re actually getting a feel for it, you might feel more comfortable the other way. So start on your stomach. You want this line going down the centre of your body."

Joe nods, laying down on his board, and he starts pretending to paddle, having seen countless others do it during their lessons.

Rami kneels down next to him, his hand on Joe’s back. “Move a bit further down, okay,” he says, and Joe nods, shifting back on the board, still moving his arms.

“The important part is keeping your feet together,” Rami says. “Okay, and paddle, paddle.” Joe keeps paddling on the sand. “Alright, your hands need to be flat, okay? Don’t grab the rails, put your hands right next to your chest.” Rami takes one of Joe’s hands in his, and guides it to the board. “That’s step one. Keep your head up, and stay in the middle of the board. And you push up.” Rami goes over to his own board, and demonstrates for Joe. “Right? You lift up so you’ll be balanced.”

“You have a really sexy teaching voice, you know,” Joe says, and Rami rolls his eyes, smiling.

“I bet you say that to _all_ your surf instructors,” he says, kneeling back down beside Joe.

“Oh yeah,” Joe says, “all of them. Every single one.” He looks over at Rami, smiling.

“Push up,” Rami says, “and go back to your knees.” Joe follows, and then Rami demonstrates again on his own board. “Bring your front foot forward, okay. So we’re going to try your right. Leave your left foot where it is, and then just stand up.”

Joe awkwardly stands up, legs spread wide, and he wavers a bit.

“Okay,” Rami says, stepping closer to Joe. “Let’s look how you are. The line on the board, you want it be to under the arches of your feet, okay?” Joe shifts his stance, and Rami nods. “And bend your knees.” Rami smiles. “Arms out, and there you go.”

“How do you do this _on the water_?” Joe asks, looking over at him, and Rami laughs.

“I— I don’t know,” Rami says. “But you’ll find out. We’re going to practice this a few more times before we get out there. Back on your stomach.”

Joe groans, dropping back down. “Are there any hopeless cases?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Rami asks. “Oh my god, Joe, you’ve been on the board for five minutes, give it a chance.” He frowns a bit, looking at Joe. “Are you not enjoying it?” he asks softly.

“No!” Joe says quickly. “Oh, no. I just meant— this is like, your passion, you know, your life? I’d hate to be bad at it and have you think less of me.”

“Oh,” Rami says, shaking his head, “no, never. That’s— I just want it to be a fun thing we do together. We can stop if you don’t like it, but trust me, even if you were the worst surfer I’ve met— and that would be pretty hard— I’m still going to have fun.”

“Okay,” Joe says, going back to paddling.

“Hands by your chest, push up again.”

Joe shifts and presses his hands to the board, pushing up, and then he brings his right foot forward before he pops up onto his feet.

“Better,” Rami says, and he adjusts Joe’s stance a bit. “Back down.”

“How many times do I have to practice this?” Joe asks.

“Until you’re good at it,” Rami says. “Because I’m not going to watch the board pop up and break your nose. Paddle, paddle.”

Joe sighs, paddling against the sand again. “Did someone break their nose in a lesson with you?” he asks.

Rami smiles. “Maybe,” he says.

“So as long as I don’t _break_ something,” Joe says, “I’m not the worst.”

Rami giggles. “Yeah, exactly. Now press up.”

Joe pushes himself up, popping up on the board.

“Better already,” Rami says. “Good job keeping yourself in the centre of the board.”

Joe drops back down, paddling again before he pops back up.

“Good,” Rami says, “yeah, good.”

Joe keeps practicing, popping up and down. Rami reaches out to adjust his feet or his hips, and then after awhile, Joe drops back down on the board, then rolls onto his back on the sand, looking up at Rami. 

“What?” Rami asks.

“I think I wanna surf,” Joe whines playfully, and Rami laughs, rolling his eyes.

“I thought you were scared,” Rami says.

“I am,” Joe nods, “but I can’t really surf on the sand, can I?”

“A few more pop ups, please,” Rami says, and pats Joe on the stomach. “Come on, roll over.”

Joe groans, and rolls back onto the board, pretending to paddle again. He pops up, and Rami reaches out to nudge Joe’s foot.

“Good,” Rami says.

“Best you’ve ever seen,” Joe says, and Rami laughs.

“I— wouldn’t say that,” Rami says. “But you’re already much better.”

“Yeah?” Joe asks. “So we can go out on the water?”

Rami nods. “We can. Let’s get you standing up out there.”

“What do I get if I do it?” Joe asks, and Rami shakes his head, smiling.

“I’m not making any bets or anything,” Rami says.

“Why not?” Joe asks.

“Because I know you’ll win,” Rami says. “So come on.” He pushes himself up on the sand, moving his board out of the way and leaving it behind, heading out into the water.

Joe whines a bit as he picks up his board, following behind Rami until the water is up to his waist, his hands on the board. “Now what?” he asks, looking around the water.

“Hop up,” Rami says.

“What?” Joe asks. “Just— just hop up.”

“Yes,” Rami says. “How else do you think you get on there?” 

“Like, maybe I lay down on it back at the beach, and then you just pull me out into the water,” Joe says.

“Well, people do do that,” Rami says, “but it’s a bit silly.” He puts his hand on the board, and looks at Joe. “Come on, on your stomach. Just like we did.”

Joe sighs, and struggles a bit, but he finally gets on the board, hands flat by his chest.

“Just a bit,” Rami says, adjusting Joe on the board. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” Joe says, and Rami grins.

“I thought you said you were ready!” he exclaims. “You just said you wanted to surf.”

“Well, now it seems a bit more real,” Joe says. “And I don’t care for it.”

Rami laughs. “Come on,” he says. “Are you ready?”

“I guess I have to be,” Joe says. Rami keeps his hand on Joe’s board, and walks further out into the water, pulling him along with him as a small wave comes in.

“No,” Joe whimpers, and Rami laughs as the board bobs over it. 

Rami turns them around, so they’re facing the shore. “Practice popping up now,” he says.

“I will die.”

“Joey,” Rami says, and Joe perks up a bit at that, it reminding him of Masca. “You’re not going to die,” Rami continues. “It’s the exact same thing you just practiced.”

Joe scoffs. “I— no. No. Water is not the exact same thing as _sand_ , Rami.”

“The movements are the same,” Rami says. “You know them now. I just watched you practice them over and over.”

Joe looks at Rami. “What if I said I was scared?” he asks softly.

Rami smiles. “I would say that’s totally understandable. But that you’re okay. I’m a professional, if anything happens and you get knocked off, I would be able to help you. You’re okay. I— what do you want?” he asks. “If you surf, we can…go anywhere you want. Dinner and a movie?”

Joe makes a quiet noise, and then wiggles a bit on the board, and slowly presses his chest up as Rami keeps hold of the board. “I can’t,” he says softly.

“Yes, you can,” Rami says. “You’ve never jumped into a pool before? Cannonballed? You can fall into the water, it’s okay.”

Joe looks at Rami and then finally nods, and carefully brings his right foot up. He blows out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, but before Rami can say anything, he opens them back up and he stands up on the board, whimpering.

“Good, good,” Rami says. “You’re good. See? There you go, put your arms out a bit, bend your knees— good. You’re up.”

“I wanna get down,” Joe says immediately, and Rami smiles up at him. “How do I get down?”

“Very carefully,” Rami says. “You don’t usually just get back down. Why not crouch a little bit and wait for a wave.”

“No,” Joe says, and he reaches down, trying to balance himself as he lays back down on the board without flipping over. “I surfed.”

Rami snorts a bit. “I…you stood up on a board.”

“That’s surfing,” Joe says. “Dinner and a movie now. And I get to pick.”

“I said stand up on a wave,” Rami says. “Not just stand up.”

“I can’t,” Joe says, shaking his head. “I can’t, the— with the barrels and the—”

“Oh my god, Joe,” Rami says, laughing. “Nobody here is riding a barrel. You are going to surf a wave that’s maybe a foot high. If that.”

“I’ll fall,” Joe says, and Rami nods.

“Yup,” he says. 

“What?” Joe asks. “What— what kind of teacher— you should say I _won’t_ fall. That it’ll be fine.”

“It _will_ be fine,” Rami assures him. “ _And_ you’ll fall. Everybody does.”

Joe sighs. “Isn’t this where you tell me like, the important thing isn’t if you fall, it’s how you get back up again?”

Rami snorts. “I…sure,” he says. “If that’s— yes.” He turns back, looking out at the water. “See, there’s a little wave coming in. Pop up.”

“No, I can’t,” Joe whines. The wave bobs under them, and Rami keeps his hand on the board to keep Joe from floating away with it.

“Joe,” Rami says gently, “you can do this, you know. I swear you can. If I didn’t think you could, we wouldn’t be out there, I don’t risk people’s health for my own amusement. The next wave that comes, I want you to pop up, okay?” He glances back. “See there, come on. You’ve got plenty of time. Up we go.”

Joe stares straight ahead, looking at the beach. His stomach twists and even now the idea of just _standing_ on water sounds fucking insane to him. Insane. Rami just _does_ this. As a job. Joe groans and pushes his chest up from the board. He brings his foot forward, and then the whole board starts moving forward, and he realizes that Rami’s let go of him. Joe stays low, crouched down. He knows this isn’t the exact right position that Rami taught him, but he’s on two feet, and he’s on the board, and the board is moving. What else is surfing besides that? Nothing. 

Joe feels like a _god_.

Rami cheers and claps behind him, and then Joe realizes he doesn’t really know what else to do, so he just jumps down into the water, and Rami swims over to him. “How did that feel?” Rami asks, looking at Joe. “You— you did it! Congratulations.”

Joe holds onto the board, reaching up to push his hair back from his forehead, water running down his face. “How much longer do I have?” he asks. “For the lesson, I mean.”

Rami glances at his watch. “Awhile,” he says, “you asked for half a day. Why, are you done?”

Joe shakes his head. “Can I try again?” he asks. “I wanna— be standing taller. Like you do.”

“Okay,” Rami nods, “we can do that.”

“And I wanna try a bigger wave too,” Joe says. “Like, an actual wave, instead of just a breeze.”

Rami laughs. “So you’re not scared anymore,” he says. 

Joe shakes his head. He has no idea why he was so scared before; Rami took care of him, just like he said he would. “Was it okay?” he asks.

“You were a bit low,” Rami says, “it affected your balance. But next time you’ll get a bit higher up and it’ll be great.”

“Okay,” Joe says, and he looks around. “Okay, sure. But I surfed. Is that surfing?”

Rami nods. “It was surfing. You rode on a wave towards the shore.”

“Holy shit!” Joe exclaims, and Rami laughs again. “I surfed!” Joe grins at Rami. “So where are we going for dinner?”

Rami smiles, rolling his eyes. “Get back on the board, and we’ll figure that out.”

“Okay,” Joe says eagerly, and he hops up on the board, letting Rami lead him back out into deeper water.

Rami practically runs down the dirt road towards the lighthouse, singing along to the song they were just listening to in the car, and Joe laughs. “Are you feeling calm right now?” Joe asks. “I feel like you’re on something.”

“I’m good,” Rami says, and he stops, starting to walk normally, looking over at Joe. 

“Just really like the lighthouse?” Joe nods, and Rami grins.

“It _is_ a nice lighthouse,” Rami says. “I just like to burn off my energy when I’m not on the water.”

“I think I’ve noticed that,” Joe says, smiling.

“Speaking of,” Rami says, looking back over at Joe, reaching out to take his hand as they stroll towards the lighthouse together. “Do you dance?”

Joe smiles, and shrugs. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Really?” Rami asks. “Or are you just saying that to get me off your back?”

“Well, why do you wanna know, I guess,” Joe says.

“What— because I want to go dancing,” Rami says. “What other reason would I have?”

Joe shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Uh…an annual dance recital in town and you want me to perform.”

Rami laughs. “I— I think I know just how _not_ you something like that would be. No, I— we haven’t gone dancing yet. I thought maybe you’d want to go to Santa Cruz with me. Some food, some dancing…” He does a bit of a dance, smiling. “Show me your moves.”

“Right now?” Joe asks, and Rami nods eagerly, so Joe does a bit of a spin in the dirt.

“Bravo!” Rami says, clapping a couple times, and Joe rolls his eyes, reaching out to take Rami’s hand again.

They start walking towards the lighthouse again, and Joe looks over at Rami. “When were you thinking we should go?” he asks.

“Not tomorrow,” Rami says, “I don’t think I’ll be done on time. Maybe the day after? Why not.”

“Do you have lessons the next day?” Joe asks.

“I think so,” Rami says, “why?”

Joe shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, “I guess I just didn’t think you’d want to have to rush back here in the morning.”

“Rush?” Rami frowns a bit, looking at Joe. “Oh,” he says. “I…I didn’t really think we’d stay over, or anything. Just go out for the night, and come back.”

“Oh,” Joe says. “Right.” He shakes his head, and gently clears his throat, trying to avoid saying anything that he shouldn’t. Or maybe he should; he doesn’t know anymore. “No, uh, yeah. Tomorrow, okay. Sure.” He gives Rami a smile. “It sounds great.”

“Are you sure?” Rami asks, and Joe nods, even though he thinks he sort of wishes that they were having an actual conversation about it. Which, Joe supposes, he could start at any time. And he would, if he weren’t worried that he might scare Rami off. If the options are some of Rami, or none of Rami, he’s going to take some of him for as long as he can. 

“What do you think of the lighthouse?” Rami asks, and Joe just smiles weakly.

“It’s gorgeous,” he says, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Rami.

“Isn’t it?” Rami says, looking at him with a smile. “It looks like something from the future, or a sci-fi novel. It makes me feel like I’m in another world, I love it.” 

“Let me take a photo of you in front of it,” Joe says, taking out his phone, and he stops walking.

“Really?” Rami asks, and Joe nods.

“Yeah,” Joe says. “I wanna keep it.”

“Okay,” Rami says, and he smiles at Joe, who snaps a couple photos, fitting as much of the lighthouse into the frame as possible.

“Perfect,” Joe says. 

“Do you want one of you?” Rami asks, holding out his hand for Joe’s phone.

“Maybe the both of us?” Joe suggests, and Rami nods as Joe steps over to him, and they stand close together as Joe takes a couple photos, Rami leaning in to kiss his cheek for the last one. “Well, thank you,” Joe says, and Rami nods and smiles, taking Joe’s hand again, leading him towards the lighthouse. 

“Do you want to go surfing again later?” Rami asks.

“I—” Joe smiles, shrugging. He’s gone back out on the water twice with Rami since his first lesson. Now that he’s tried it, Rami seems very into the idea of him keeping at it. “That’s— I’m good enough for you?” he asks, and he makes a bit of a face when he realizes the awkward phrasing.

“What does that mean?” Rami asks.

“I just— surfing is fun for you,” Joe says. “I don’t slow you down?”

“Not at all,” Rami says, smiling at him. “I like watching you. And it’s nice to share at least one of our jobs; it’s not like I can help you write a script or anything.”

“Right,” Joe says, and he nods. “I— sure, let’s surf later.”

“Yeah?” Rami asks, and then says _yes_ under his breath, pumping his fist a bit, and Joe just laughs, happy to make Rami so happy.

Joe stares at his laptop, drumming his fingers on the desk. He puts his thumb to his mouth and starts biting on a hangnail, swallowing hard. He’s dressed, ready to go down and meet Rami in the parking lot for the drive to Santa Cruz. He’d been writing all day, and…

“Shit,” Joe says, sighing. He closes his laptop, sitting back in his seat. He glances at his watch, and then shakes his head. He tries to think how long he can lie for. Probably for…forever, right? He can just send the scripts to his agent and Hulu and just tell Rami nothing. Tell Rami he’s…Joe doesn’t even know. They don’t want it to be a miniseries anymore, but multiple seasons. _Ten_ seasons. Twenty-two episodes each. Like TV used to be. That should give Joe enough time on the island.

He’s also tempted to delete all his work, but he knows that’s not going to get him anywhere either. Rami doesn’t ask him how far he is very often, he avoids the subject, but he’s clearly seen Joe writing, he knows he works on it every day. Deleting it would just cause more issues.

Joe shakes his head, and puts his shoes on, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything. He doesn’t have to tell Rami tonight, anyway. He still needs to go over the script, and then he’ll— he’s not going to let it ruin this.

He steps out of his room, pulling the door closed behind him and taking the elevator down to the lobby. He waits for a few moments before he sees Rami’s car pull in, and despite all the conflicted feelings, he doesn’t have to fake a smile as he hurries out to see him, waving eagerly. Joe climbs into the car, and leans over, giving Rami a quick kiss. 

“Hi,” Rami says, “you look nice.”

“Thank you,” Joe says, looking down at himself, not for the first time wishing that he’d brought some nicer clothes with him to Tenerife. Of course, when he’d been packing, he’d planned on spending all his time alone in his hotel room. “You look handsome.”

“Oh,” Rami says, smiling sweetly, looking forward as he pulls away from the hotel. “Well, thank you.”

“Did you have a good day?” Joe asks, and Rami nods, and then keeps nodding to the bassline on the radio. 

“Today was a family,” Rami says. “All on holiday together.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Joe says. “What’s the youngest person you’ve ever taught how to surf?”

“Mm, like, five?” Rami says.

“Five?” Joe says. “That’s— that’s too young!”

Rami laughs. “I’ve seen younger than that out on the water before,” he says. “That’s— it’s not _that_ young. Why, what sports were you doing at five?”

“Soccer,” Joe says, “like every good American kid. And tee-ball.”

“Fair enough,” Rami nods.

“And you were surfing,” Joe says.

“Not at _five_ ,” Rami says. “I played soccer too!”

“Fine,” Joe says, and he leans back against the door, looking over at Rami. “I bet you were like, so cool. The coolest kid ever.”

Rami snorts at that. “I don’t think so,” he says.

“Well, you’re the coolest adult ever,” Joe says, and Rami smiles, glancing over at him.

“I teach surfing,” he says.

“Yeah,” Joe nods. “Exactly.”

“You write for _Hulu_ ,” Rami says. “You could be like, an Emmy winner in a year or two.”

“I—” Joe scoffs a bit, shaking his head, but he’d be lying if he said he never thought about it. Hulu, the Troubles, a couple fantastic Irish actors attached so far… If it was written by anyone else, Joe would one hundred percent think it was Emmy bait. But hearing Rami say it out loud just makes him feel silly. “I don’t think so,” he says finally.

“Ha, right, okay,” Rami says. “Come on. I—” He shakes his head. “It won’t be long before I turn on the TV and see you up on stage in some fancy suit, gold statue in your hands.” He looks at Joe, and Joe’s heart twists a bit, because even though if the words sound like Rami’s giving him a compliment, the look on his face tells Joe that Rami isn’t happy with the idea. 

“Well,” Joe says, trying to save the moment, “when I’m up there, I’ll be sure to thank you, for all the inspiration you provided while I was here.” He swallows hard, not really sure that that sounds any better. “Where are we going anyway?” he asks, finally just deciding to change the subject altogether.

“The club is called A Saudade,” Rami says.

“I love when you speak Spanish,” Joe says, and Rami laughs.

“Yeah, well,” Rami shrugs, shaking his head. “Creo que hacemos buena pareja.”

“What’s that mean?” Joe asks.

“Nothing,” Rami says, “just that…tonight will be fun.”

“Yeah it will,” Joe nods, and he leans over, trying to kiss Rami on the cheek, but Rami just laughs and scrunches his shoulders up.

“Not while I’m driving!” Rami exclaims, and Joe laughs, settling back.

“Fine,” Joe says. “But as soon as you stop this car, I’m kissing you.”

Rami snorts. “Is that a threat?” he asks.

“A promise,” Joe says.

And it’s one he keeps, leaning over to give Rami a kiss as soon as he parks the car. Rami leads him to a restaurant, and they each have a drink and something to eat. Joe smiles at Rami the entire time; he’s desperate to reach out and take his hand, or run his foot up the inside of Rami’s leg. “I’ve never had as much good food in my entire life as I’ve had since I got here,” Joe says before he takes a large bite, and Rami smiles.

“It is good, isn’t it?” Rami says, taking a drink. “Thank god I surf.”

Joe laughs a bit, nodding. “It does do a lot good for you,” he says, and Rami smiles, bashfully looking away. “God, maybe it’s a good thing I’ve started surfing.”

Rami quickly looks at him, face lighting up. “See!” he says, pointing at him. “Think of the benefits.”

“Are you saying I’m not fit enough already?” Joe asks, cocking his head to the side, and Rami rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I said,” he says quietly, taking another bite of food, and Joe just laughs, but he feels sort of…warm, too, and he just bites his lip as he watches Rami from across the table.

After they finish eating and pay, they get up and walk out of the restaurant, walking to the club. Rami grins, reaching out to excitedly take Joe’s hand as they head inside, the bass thumping up through their bodies. Rami leans in towards him. “I really want to dance with you,” he says, and Joe nods, smiling.

“Then let’s dance,” Joe says, and Rami leads Joe out onto the packed dance floor, turning around to wrap an arm around Joe’s shoulders as they start to move together to the music. Joe settles his hands on Rami’s waist, smiling at Rami. Joe immediately feels the adrenaline moving through him, it’s like he feels _giddy_ to be there with Rami.

They keep dancing, sometimes close, but sometimes Joe playfully spins Rami under his arm, making Rami laugh, and Rami grins as a new song starts to play. “Oh my god, I _love_ this song,” Rami says. “It’s a classic.” He sticks the tip of his tongue out at Joe before he starts to sing. “ _Esta noche yo te quiero conocer, y estoy seguro de que tu tambien_.”

“You’re going to have to translate this for me later,” Joe says, and Rami laughs, before he shrugs. 

“It’s so good,” Rami says.

“It is catchy,” Joe nods, and it is, even though he really doesn’t understand a word.

“ _Tu ya sabes lo que quiero, damelo damelo dame lo que quiero_ ,” Rami continues, working his hips against Joe’s.

“I like this,” Joe says softly, and he leans in, brushing his lips against Rami’s, and Rami tightens his arms around him, still dancing.

“ _Sin excusas ni rodeos_ ,” Rami nods, singing in Joe’s ear, and Joe grips tighter onto Rami. Joe _really_ wishes they were staying overnight in Santa Cruz, he would literally kill to drag Rami off towards a hotel room right now.

They dance for a couple more songs, grinding against each other, starting to sweat, shirts sticking to their bodies. Rami sways against Joe, smiling, and then he tries to pull away. 

“No, stay,” Joe says, and Rami laughs, letting Joe tug him back in.

“Do you want a drink?” Rami asks.

“Oh!” Joe says. “Yes, please.”

Rami laughs again. “I thought so. I’m not running away,” he says. He turns, and starts leading Joe towards the bar.

“Rami!”

Rami and Joe both glance over when they hear Rami’s name called, and Joe just takes a step back; this isn’t someone he recognizes from the beach, but clearly Rami knows who he is, because he smiles widely and lets go of Joe’s hand to step over to him. “Teo! Hola!” Rami glances back at Joe, and waves him forward. “Joe, this is Teo, and this is—”

“Lina,” Teo says, gesturing to his girlfriend, and he smiles at Joe. “Hola, cómo estás?”

“Uh, muy bien,” Joe says, nodding. “Gracias.” He glances at Rami, who’s smiling, then looks back at Teo. “And you?”

“Y tú,” Rami says softly, and Joe nods.

“Y tú?” Joe asks, and Teo smiles.

“Great, thank you,” he says.

“Teo surfs,” Rami says, “we first met…awhile ago! He’s friends with a friend of Desi’s. How are you?” he asks, looking back at Teo. 

Joe nods as Teo and Rami continue speaking, and he gives Lina a small smile. She smiles back, clearly sympathizing. “How are you?” he asks, realizing immediately after that he’s not actually sure how much English she speaks. “Uh, sorry. Cómo estás?”

“Well, thank you,” Lina says. “You are from America as well? How do you know each other?”

“Oh, we met here,” Joe says. “Just a few weeks ago. I— I’m here to work, sort of.”

“Joe’s a writer!” Rami says proudly, and Joe looks at him, smiling.

“Do you want to sit?” Teo asks, glancing back at their small table. “Come, we’ll get drinks, I want to hear about the writer.”

Rami leans, mouth by Joe’s ear. “Are you good?” he asks, and Joe nods.

“Sure,” Joe says, and Rami kisses his cheek before he and Teo turn to head towards the bar, and Joe takes a seat next to Lina. “Are you from here?” he asks.

“Logroño,” Lina says.

“Oh,” Joe nods. “I haven’t been, sorry.”

“You drink wine?” Lina asks, and Joe nods. “Rioja.”

“I have _definitely_ heard of that,” Joe says, and Lina nods, smiling. “That must be a beautiful place to grow up then.”

“What type of writer are you?” Lina asks, shifting in her seat.

“I’m here working on a TV show,” Joe says.

“Wow, what sort of television?”

“Hulu,” Joe says, “uh, do you have that here? Maybe not. It’s…uh, anyway, uh, a miniseries?” Joe swallows, not sure really how much English Lina understands, and he knows he doesn’t know enough Spanish to explain what a miniseries is. “About Northern Ireland.”

“Ah, I see,” Lina nods, and Joe gently clears his throat, looking away. He feels like a complete idiot for not having picked up more Spanish, either before he came, but definitely since he’s been here. Joe takes out his phone and connects to the club’s wifi, going to Google Translate. “Irlanda del Norte,” he says, and Lina laughs softly.

“I did know,” she says, “but thank you.”

“Okay,” Joe says. “Do you know what a mini series is? A…” He looks back at his phone. “Corto programa de televisión.” He makes a bit of a face, then types a bit more. “Estoy escribiendo.” He looks at her. “I’m sorry.”

Lina laughs again. “It is okay,” she says. “It’s good. If you live here, maybe you will learn.”

“Oh,” Joe says, “I’m just here to write. Once that’s done, I’m…leaving, I guess.”

“You and Rami are not together?” Lina asks, and Joe opens his mouth to answer, but then Lina quickly shakes her head and Joe glances back, seeing Rami and Teo approaching with their drinks.

“Hi,” Rami says, kissing the top of Joe’s head as he sits down next to him, and Lina just looks even more confused. “Did we miss anything?” Rami asks.

“Joe was telling me about his writing,” Lina says. “About Northern Ireland.”

“Oh, tell me,” Teo says, sitting next to Lina. “What about?”

Joe looks at his phone again, typing. “Los Problemas,” he says, and Rami smiles.

“Ah, si, si,” Teo nods, taking a drink. “You are writing a book, or…”

Joe blinks a couple times. “Corto programa de televisión,” he says from memory, and Teo looks at Lina, smiling.

“Joe, they— you can speak English,” Rami says gently. “It’s alright.”

“A miniseries,” Joe says, and Teo nods.

“How much are you writing?” Teo asks. 

“Seven episodes,” Joe says, and Rami glances at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“How much do you have left to write?” Teo asks.

“I…” Joe looks at Rami, then down at the table, and sighs. “I’m actually done, so. I finished today.”

“Really?” Teo asks excitedly, at the same time that Rami says, “ _what_?” 

Joe just gives Rami a helpless look, but Teo raises his glass up, and Lina follows. “We must drink to that!” Teo says, and Joe reluctantly lifts his glass as well, watching Rami.

“Felicitaciones!” Lina says, and the three of them take a drink, and Rami just shakes his head, pushing his chair back from the table, hurrying off.

“Rami!” Joe calls after him.

“What’s wrong?” Teo asks. “What happened?”

“He…” Joe sighs, standing up. “I— I’m only here to write. I’m supposed to leave when I’m done, and…I didn’t tell him I was done.”

Teo and Lina look at each other, and then back at Joe. “You should go,” Lina says.

“Yeah,” Joe says, nodding. “I— nice to meet you both. Uh, mucho gusto. Bye.” He waves and then looks around. He doesn’t see Rami, but he starts heading towards the door anyway. When he gets outside, he shivers a bit, realizing just how warm it was in there, and how sweaty he is. He sees Rami walking away, hurrying back to the car, Joe thinks. “Rami!” Joe calls, and Rami glances back at him with a scowl, and Joe picks up the pace. “Rami, wait! Ram— come on! Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Rami asks, turning back around to look at Joe, still walking backwards. “Explain— you’re done? And you didn’t tell me. You’re just…done.”

“I am,” Joe says. “But not— not completely. It’s not like I’m flying out tomorrow or anything! We’d still get a chance to—”

“To what?” Rami asks, stopping walking. “To— to drink to you leaving? To celebrate and say goodbye? No, nuh-uh, _fuck_ that. Were you— you weren’t even going to tell me!”

“Of course I was!” Joe exclaims. “I just didn’t want to tell you today and have it ruin our night. I just wanted…I wanted to have fun! To dance, and— I didn’t want to tell you today, but of _course_ I was going to tell you.”

“Whatever,” Rami says, shaking his head, turning back around. 

“Why are you so upset?” Joe asks, and Rami’s jaw drops as he turns back again to look at Joe.

“ _Excuse_ me?” Rami asks. “How— why— what?”

“We’re not dating!” Joe cries. “I— you always knew I was going to leave. You won’t even let me sleep over.”

“I’m upset because I _love_ you!” Rami yells, and he spins back around, trying to hurry away.

Joe looks at Rami, blinking a couple times before he runs after him. “I— how the fuck would I know that?” he asks. “You don’t— you never say anything like that!”

“Oh?” Rami asks. “And how do you feel about me?”

Joe opens his mouth to answer, and then swallows hard. “I…I think I love you too.”

Rami scoffs. “You never say anything like that,” he says, echoing Joe’s words, shaking his head. “I— goodbye, Joe.”

“No!” Joe says. “No way. No _way_. I do not spend over a month here, with you, with— hiking and kissing and— for this to be goodbye, no way.”

“Then why not say something?” Rami asks. “If you _think_ you’re in love with me, why not tell me?”

“Because I thought—” Joe looks at Rami, shaking his head. “I…ugh, I thought maybe this was your thing.”

Rami frowns. “My _thing_?”

“I thought you just— I’m a tourist, really,” Joe says, “and I thought that you just— well, you knew I was leaving, so I thought—” He groans loudly. “I thought you didn’t care! That this was just fun for you, and once I left, you’d be over it!”

Rami’s mouth falls open again. “So, wait— you’re calling me a _slut_? You think I just walk up to every guy on the beach and flirt with them? Date them?”

“ _No_!” Joe cries out. “I— no. That’s…that’s what I _wanted_ to believe.”

Rami looks at Joe, shaking his head. “You wanted to believe I don’t care about you. You _wanted_ to believe that you’re just— that this is just fun for me? _Why_? Why even spend time with me then, why—”

“Because it made it easier to think about leaving,” Joe says. “I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to be done. I wanted to delete every episode I wrote and stay here forever. I— I love you. And I— I don’t want to go. And I thought if I just told myself that you wanted me to leave, it’d be easier to.” He lets out a heavy breath, looking at Rami. “I don’t want— I _want_ me to be the only one you’re like this with. I don’t want— I want to be the only one you took to Masca.”

Rami just looks at Joe, and then shakes his head. “You…I don’t even know what to say right now,” he says. “I— you lied to me. You’re leaving.”

“I was _always_ leaving,” Joe says, “you knew that, it wasn’t a lie.”

“But you’re done,” Rami says. “Right? So— and you didn’t say. So how do I know you weren’t just planning on going to the airport tomorrow?”

“I would _never_ ,” Joe says, reaching his hand out to Rami, but Rami steps back. 

“You just said that you thought I— that—” Rami shakes his head again. “You think I don’t care about you.”

“I—” Joe groans and shakes his head. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel, then? Why is the front door the furthest I’ve gotten into your house?”

“So all you care about now is why you don’t get to fuck me?” Rami asks.

“I wouldn’t care if we _never_ — I just want to know why!” Joe says. “If you’re a virgin, or hate sex, or don’t trust me, or, I—” He shakes his head. “If you have a kid living at home! I don’t know. I don’t care, I just want to know _why_! I don’t care about sex, I want to wake up next to you and see you and smile, and…I want to _know_ you, and even though I think we talk more than anybody else I know, I feel like we…I just want to know everything there is to know about you. And that includes seeing what you look like first thing in the morning.” Joe lets out a breath, looking at Rami. “Rami, please, I—”

“Did you book a flight yet?” Rami asks.

Joe frowns. “No,” he says, confused. “I haven’t even told my agent I finished the final episode yet.”

“Maybe you should,” Rami says, and he turns away again.

“Rami!” Joe hollers after him. “Rami! We’re— how am I supposed to get home?”

“Use your Hulu money to call a cab,” Rami says, and Joe just stands there, watching Rami walk away. He lifts his hand to his mouth, and shakes his head.

“Rami,” Joe says again, and then he spins on his feet, kicking a rock away from him. “ _Fuck_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the angst, but it couldn't be perfect for the boys, could it? Don't worry though, this is for @scarvesandtrenchcoats and I know that she likes a happy ending :) Just wait until the last chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Joe stares up at the ceiling, sighing. He hasn’t strayed too far from the hotel for the last few days. He’s managed to drag himself downstairs for breakfast and dinner; sometimes he heads out for lunch. He’s gone for a couple walks, but he hasn’t gone anywhere close to the beach. He thought about walking back out towards the lighthouse, but his feet were glued to the ground with the fear that he’d run into Rami.

Joe hadn’t slept that night, after getting a cab back to the hotel. He’d emailed his agent instead, telling her that he had seven episodes. He was done. She was ecstatic, and so was Hulu. Joe didn’t really care anymore. Sure, writing an entire series for them was a great job. Maybe he hoped that they liked it; there was a chance they wouldn’t. He’d still get paid. 

He’s FaceTimed home, he’s actually gone to the pool, he considered golfing (but didn’t go). But he can’t go back to the beach. He can’t think of anything worse than going down there, Rami seeing him, and being too disgusted to talk to him.

“Ughhhhhh,” Joe groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes. He doesn’t understand how this went so wrong. Especially considering for how long it was going so _right_. Of _course_ he was going to tell Rami he was done. Of _course_ he didn’t really think that Rami was flirting with every new guy on the beach, it was just easier for Joe to hope that was true so he didn’t have to feel so bad about leaving.

He pushes the blankets off his lap and stands up, walking across the room to the balcony. He sits down, bringing his feet up onto the chair, looking out over the town. He sighs, and watches the waves rolling in against the shore. He wraps his arms around his knees, resting his chin, and he just frowns. He misses Masca. He misses the mushroom tapas that Rami loves. He misses _him_.

Joe reaches up, rubbing at his face. He wants to go back to bed. He wants to go dive into the pool and just sit at the bottom until his chest hurts and he has to rush back up to the surface to take a deep breath. Joe sighs again, shifting on his chair, and he keeps watching the water. He can see someone on a surfboard; he can’t tell from there whether or not it’s Rami, but he likes to think it is. He hopes it is. Rami loves surfing, and always has such a big smile on his face when he comes in from the water. Joe would hate it if what happened between them made Rami lose that.

He’s not sure how long he sits out on the balcony for, but eventually his skin starts to feel a little itchy, a sign that he’s gotten too much sun. He could probably sit out there forever; he plans on it, until he hears the ring of a FaceTime call coming from his room, so he sighs, pushing himself up. Joe grabs his phone, seeing that it’s his agent; he makes a bit of a face, but answers it anyway. “Hey,” Joe says, and he sits down at the desk, propping his chin up on his hand. He looks pathetic, especially compared to his agent, who’s got her phone propped up on her Peloton bike.

“Good, you’re up,” his agent says, and Joe’s brow furrows in confusion.

“It’s…two in the afternoon,” Joe says. “What— why are _you_ up? It’s six in the morning there.”

“I get up at five,” his agent says, and Joe tries not to roll his eyes. “Anyway, big news.”

“Hulu?” Joe asks.

“Not yet,” his agent says. “But no, even better.”

Joe just looks at his phone, blinking a couple times. “Netflix?” he asks finally.

“A24,” she says.

“I— what?” Joe asks. “Which— I didn’t…I didn’t send them a script.”

“No, of course not,” she says, “I sent it. That’s why you pay me.” 

Joe makes a bit of a face at that, but he knows she’s right. “Wait,” he says suddenly. “Which script did you send?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, waving her hand. “I sent a bunch. I’ll have to check my email. The horror film, I think. That’s not the point. The _point_ is— they like it, and they want to meet with you. So, someone did their job well, didn’t she?”

Joe just looks at her, and then sighs. “I…yeah, thank you. They’re great.”

“They _are_ ,” she says. “You could be like, the next Ari Aster. Or David Lowery.”

“Well,” Joe says, shrugging. “That’s…wait, do they want me to _direct_ , too?”

She smiles at him. “That’s what the meeting is for, Joseph!” 

Joe’s eyes widen a bit; since he graduated, he’s mostly been writing. And writing, and writing some more. He’s shot a few short films with his friends, but a feature film? For _A24_? Like…fuck.

“So get your ass back here,” she says, still enthusiastically peddling. “I’ve already got Riti looking at flights for you. Do you want your layover to be in Newark, or Moscow?”

Joe just looks at her in confusion. “Sorry, flights?” he asks. “I— when?”

“What do you mean, _when_?” she asks. “What are you doing there? You’ve been there for almost two months already. Come home.”

Joe opens his mouth to speak, and then he just sighs. “I…yeah. You’re right,” he says. “I— did what I came here to do, right?” He reaches up, scratching at his scruff. “When do they want to meet?”

“Sooner rather than later works better for these sorts of things, you know,” she says, sounding a bit impatient with him.

Joe nods. “I— I know. Trust me.” He sighs again. “Can I have a week?” he asks. He glances at his watch. “Just— a week. I’ll be there, I promise.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What do you need a _week_ for?” she asks. 

“I just— I have things to do,” Joe says. “There are— come on, a week. That’s no time at all.”

She sighs. “That’s— this is A24. _A24_.”

“I know that!” Joe exclaims, and then he groans. “I know that. I just— it’s a thirty-hour flight to LA, I’m not mentally prepared to leave tomorrow.” He pauses for a moment. “Or the day after tomorrow. And maybe not even—”

“I’ll get Riti to book something for you and send it over.”

Joe sighs. “Can she also tell me which script I’m supposed to be selling?” he asks.

If she could narrow her eyes any further at him, she would. “It will be in the email,” she says. “Talk soon, Joe,” she says, and Joe nods, waving as she disconnects the call.

Joe sighs, staring at his phone. He turns it over, and then leans down, resting his forehead on the desk. He lets out a pathetic sound, and then another one, and then he lightly bangs his forehead on the desk over and over. “Fucking fuck,” he mutters. He groans, sitting up. This should be amazing news. This _is_ amazing news. Fucking— _A24_. Like half of his favourite movies of the last _decade_ are A24. He wants to be excited. He _is_ excited. But—

But he didn’t plan on— well, he doesn’t know what he planned on. He can tell himself he didn’t plan on leaving Tenerife again until he’d spoken to Rami, but so far, he’d made no _actual_ plans to talk to Rami. So was he just planning on staying here forever? Perhaps.

Joe groans, rubbing his hand over his face. As much as the idea scares him, the things he’s worried about hearing Rami say, he can’t leave without telling him. Not when that had been why Rami was so upset to begin with. Joe bites on the inside of his lip, and glances at his watch again. He sighs, pushing himself back from the desk, and then walks back out to the balcony. He leans out over the railing, watching the waves again. Joe watches until his eyes get blurry, and he has to blink and reach up to rub away the tears. He sniffles, and then nods.

Joe heads back into his room and looks at his bed, fighting the urge to flop down on it. He’s come up with a plan, and he’s going through with it. He grabs his phone and his wallet, puts on his shoes, and heads downstairs.

Joe is quite possibly going to vomit up his entire lunch. It’s going to happen. He feels awful as he approaches the beach, trying to take deep breaths, over and over, to calm himself down. He’s going to die. Rami is going to straight up murder him. The only question is if it will be immediately on sight, or if Rami will let him get a few words out first.

Joe whimpers a bit as he gets closer to the spot on the beach that Rami works from. He’s going— just sick everywhere, he thinks. This is such a bad idea. Why did he— Joe stops where he’s walking when he sees Rami on the beach, standing near his board, talking to Desi. So far, it doesn’t seem like Rami’s seen him. Joe inhales deeply, and then does it a couple more times, trying to settle himself, and then he walks forward. 

Joe actually gets pretty close before Rami looks up; for a split second, Rami almost seems happy to see him. Almost. There’s a flash of something, before it turns to confusion, and then maybe anger. Or sadness. Joe lifts his hand up to greet him, and Rami looks away, turning back to his Desi. “Hey, Rami,” Joe says, and Rami looks back over at him.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Rami says, voice tight. “I thought you’d left already.” Joe just shakes his head. “Why not?” Rami asks.

“Because I didn’t like how we left things,” Joe says. “And I’d be an asshole if I didn’t at least try to talk to you before I went home.”

Rami scoffs a bit at that, rolling his eyes, and Joe can imagine what Rami’s thinking, what do you mean, _would_ be an asshole? Rami’s mouth opens and Joe expects that to be the first thing out, so he’s surprised when Rami says, “but you _are_ going home.”

Joe looks at Rami, and then nods a couple times.

Rami shakes his head. He opens his mouth to speak again but he doesn’t, he just keeps shaking his head, like he’s in disbelief.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Joe says. “Before I go.”

“I think we both said enough already,” Rami says. “Besides, I can’t. I have a lesson.”

“I can wait,” Joe says, giving Rami a hopeful smile. “I— it would mean a lot to me to talk to you. After everything. I— you mean a lot to me, and I’d like to be able to explain myself.” He looks at Rami. “Just…fifteen minutes. If the last few weeks have meant anything to you, just…fifteen minutes.”

Rami looks at Joe, and then looks down, curling his toes in the sand before he shrugs. “You have to wait until after my lesson,” he says, looking back up. “Because I’m _working_. So you don’t get to come here now, and embarrass me or get me upset. I have to _teach_ , it’s my job.”

“I know,” Joe says. “I— I’ll wait, like I said. Are you— six?” he asks.

Rami blinks, and then nods. “Yeah, that’s fine,” he says. “I— six.”

“Okay,” Joe says. “I’ll…” He shrugs, looking around. “I’ll be back.”

“Fine,” Rami says, and he sighs, turning away from Joe, looking down at his watch as he waits for his client, and Desi looks at Joe with a small sympathetic smile.

Joe glances at his watch as well, and then frowns a bit, looking around. He has almost three hours to kill, but he doesn’t think Rami would take as kindly to Joe waiting on the beach and watching him as he used to. Joe walks away from the shore, back up to the road, and heads to the nearest restaurant, where he takes a seat and orders a beer. He can see the beach from where he’s sitting, and he sighs.

Rami glances over at Joe as he carries his surfboard into the hut, and Joe just gives him an awkward smile and a nod. Rami looks away, walking into the hut, setting his board down, and then he comes out, locking the door behind him. Rami walks back over to Joe, and then just shrugs and gestures ahead of them, so they start slowly walking along the sand. There’s the light crashing of the ocean water coming to shore, and shouts and laughter of people on the beach, but there’s no sound between them. Joe looks down at his feet, watching them sink into the dark sand. He glances over at Rami, who’s doing the same, just looking down as they walk along.

“I miss Masca.”

Rami looks up at Joe, a confused look on his face. “What?” he asks.

“I miss Masca,” Joe says again. “That was…a really special place. Thank you for taking me.”

Rami watches Joe for a moment, and then he nods. “Yeah, you’re— welcome, it’s…I wanted you to see it.” He swallows, and then looks down again. After a few moments, Rami speaks again. “Be honest,” he says, and Joe looks at him as they continue walking. “Were you going to tell me you were done, or were you going to leave?”

“I was going to tell you,” Joe says. “I swear. I would never— not without saying goodbye. I…the day after, I think. That’s when I planned on it. I just knew how excited you were to go dancing, and I was too, and I just— I didn’t want to ruin that. I wanted us to have fun.”

Rami nods slowly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I _did_ have fun,” he says softly. “Beforehand.”

Joe nods. He bites on the inside of his lip, and then sighs. “Can I ask _you_ a question?” he asks.

“Sure,” Rami says. “That’s fair.”

Joe has a lot to say, but he decides to go with something easy first, something he’s been wondering. “What was that song about?” he asks. “The one you sang to me.”

Rami’s face reddens a bit, and he looks away. “It’s…called _Damelo_.”

“What’s that mean?” Joe asks.

“ _Give It To Me_ ,” Rami says, and he gently clears his throat when Joe’s eyes widen, and he smiles. They keep walking along, and go back to not looking at each other, just down at the beach. “When is your flight?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” Joe says, “I— my agent is booking it, she’s sending me the info. It’s…probably in…two days, I’d guess. Three, if I’m lucky. She needs me back in LA for a meeting.”

Rami frowns a bit. “Why LA?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Joe asks.

“Why does your agent want you in LA,” Rami says. “I thought you lived in New York.”

Joe laughs a bit, looking at Rami. “No, I don’t.”

“You definitely—” Rami looks at him again. “You said.”

“I’m from New York, my family lives there,” Joe says. “I live in LA. For work. I— I definitely mentioned Los Angeles.”

Rami shakes his head. “No, you didn’t,” he says. “I would’ve remembered. Considering I’m from there.”

Joe stops on the sand, looking at Rami. “No, you’re— no, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Rami says, and he stops as well. “I…I’m from LA.”

“You’re from Indiana,” Joe says.

“I went to university in Indiana,” Rami says. “I’m from LA.”

“What?” Joe asks. “I— so…wait. When you go home, like… _home_ home, you’re in LA. Not Indiana.”

Rami nods. “And when you go home, you’re in LA. Not New York.”

Joe just shakes his head. “That’s…that’s impossible that that’s never come up.”

“I don’t know,” Rami says, “you just talked so much about New York and your family there, I— I don’t know.”

Joe sighs, reaching up to push his hair back from his forehead. “So, it seems we may not actually know each other at all, then.” That gap he’d felt between them, like they were talking but not really learning anything about each other, it’s real. That stings. Maybe he’d imagined how close they really were.

“That’s not true,” Rami says softly. “I— I don’t need to know you live in LA to know…you.” He meets Joe’s eyes, and then looks away. He starts walking again, and Joe waits for a few moments before he hurries after him.

“Why don’t you let me in to your house?” Joe asks suddenly, and Rami’s footsteps falter a bit, and he just shakes his head. “Come on,” Joe says. “I— you say that we know each other, but you don’t let me in. I’ve been here for weeks, and you never even had me over for dinner.”

Rami shrugs, reaching up to scrub his hand over his hair. “I…fair,” he says softly.

“So what is it?” Joe asks.

Rami shakes his head, and sighs. “I…I guess I thought if I didn’t let you in, it wouldn’t hurt as much when you left,” he says. “I…going back to your hotel, or bringing you home, it would’ve been amazing, and trust me, I think about it. A lot. What it would be like with you.” He shakes his head again. “But I knew…I know you— the island is my life, not yours. I thought if we weren’t sleeping together, that I could trick myself into thinking I didn’t care about you as much as I do.” He gently clears his throat. “It didn’t work. Still fell in love.”

Joe’s stomach twists, and even given the circumstances, that still makes him feel slightly giddy, and he tries not to smile. “I love you too,” he says softly, and then he swallows hard at the look on Rami’s face, thinking that that’s probably not enough anymore. Joe reaches up, rubbing his mouth, scratching at his cheek. He’s not sure what he should say now. He’s not sure what Rami wants to hear. So, if nothing else, at least Joe can get to know him better, because clearly they missed that step. “Where did you learn to surf then?” he asks. “Was it in LA?”

“Malibu,” Rami says, glancing over at Joe. “Zuma Beach.”

“Okay, cool,” Joe says. “Because I’ve been picturing you out on the Great Lakes this entire time.”

Rami smiles. “I’ve surfed the Great Lakes too,” he says. “Not in Evansville, obviously. But yeah. February, Lake Michigan. Fucking cold.”

“Jesus,” Joe mutters, and Rami laughs. That’s a nice sound, Joe thinks, regardless of the circumstances. He looks around at the beach, out at the water, pursing his lips as he considers his next step.

“I hated what you said to me,” Rami says, and Joe looks over at him. “That this was just _fun_ for me. That I—” Rami shakes his head. “How could you ever think that?”

Joe stops and turns, reaching his hand out to gently touch Rami’s arm, and Rami blinks in surprise, but doesn’t move. “What I said, about hoping that you were doing this with other guys. I didn’t mean it. I— I thought the same thing you did, that if I could convince myself that was true, it wouldn’t hurt as much when I left.” He swallows, biting on his lip, and lets his hand drop from Rami. “I’m _really_ sorry.”

“You’re the only guy I’ve dated since I’ve been here,” Rami says. “Well, _seriously_ dated, anyway. I went out a couple times with a couple guys when I first moved here, but they weren’t…” He shakes his head. “There was nothing there.”

Joe makes a quiet noise. “Are we dating?” he asks. “Or— were we?”

Rami frowns a bit. “Were we not?” he asks. “I…yes. Of course we were.” He sighs, and starts walking away again.

“I’m glad we’re dating,” Joe says, following behind him. “Or…that we _were_ , at least.”

“It won’t work, Joe,” Rami says.

“What won’t?” Joe asks.

“You know what,” Rami says. “ _Us_.”

“Why not?” Joe asks.

“Why— you know why not!” Rami exclaims. “I— you live in— even further away than I thought. You don’t just live on the other side of the ocean, you’re live on the other side of the _world_. That’s not— that can’t work. It won’t.” He shakes his head.

“So, Tenerife is forever for you?” Joe asks.

Rami swallows hard. “That’s not really a fair question,” he says, voice rough.

“Why isn’t it fair?” Joe asks.

“Is LA forever for _you_?” Rami asks. “Just because I’m not from here doesn’t mean it’s not my home. I have a job, I have a house, and friends. My _life_ is here.”

“I— but surfing can’t be forever,” Joe says.

Rami’s mouth falls open. “I— excuse me?” he asks. “That’s fucking rude. So, now you’re insulting my job?”

“That’s not—” Joe groans. “I just— people. Surfers. Uh, Kelly— Kelly Slater, he’s a surfer. Right? How old was he when he retired?”

Rami scoffs. “He hasn’t yet. And he’s almost _fifty_.”

Joe makes a bit of a face. “Okay, damn, bad example. I just mean, you’re an athlete. Athletes tend to have…shorter careers. You could get injured tomorrow and never be able to surf again. You’re not going to be teaching surfing at— in your sixties.”

“No, probably not,” Rami says curtly. “But I can still own a business in my sixties. And sell surfboards, and hold competitions. And— and— I don’t know, reef conservation!”

“Okay, I get the point,” Joe says. “I’m sorry, that was— rude of me. You’re right. It’s not— I mean, I’m a _writer_ , for god’s sake, it’s not like I have the moral high ground here or something.”

Rami snorts at that, and smiles, probably despite himself. “I— it’s fine,” he says softly. “I forgive you.” He gently clears his throat. “What’s the meeting? I mean, why do you have to go back to LA? Is it Hulu?”

Joe shakes his head. “A movie, actually.”

“A _movie_?” Rami asks. “Like, like a— wow. Something you wrote?”

Joe nods. “Yeah, my agent submitted it. And they’re interested.”

“Cool,” Rami says, “congratulations.”

“And guess what else?” Joe asks, looking over at him.

“What?” Rami asks, kicking a small pebble in front of him.

“They maybe want me to _direct_ , too,” Joe says, grinning. “That’s what the meeting is for, we’re going to talk about it.”

Rami looks over at Joe, smiling faintly. “That’s really…good for you, Joe. I— good. I hope that happens for you. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Joe says, nodding. “Yeah, I— it would be great. That’s like, a dream. Feature length film, I mean.”

Rami nods. “That would be great,” he says. “I’d like to see that.” Rami swallows hard. “Your life is in LA.”

“What?” Joe asks.

“And my life is here,” Rami continues.

“Wha— whoa, whoa,” Joe says, “okay, let’s just— I don’t like how that sounds.”

“It sounds like what it is, Joe,” Rami says. “Moving here was— moving anywhere is hard. It completely changes your life. And not everybody can do that. Not everybody _wants_ to do that. And I don’t blame you.” Rami swallows. “I love you, but…I don’t blame you.”

“So that’s it?” Joe asks. “We’re just— that’s it?”

Rami nods. “Yeah, I think that’s it.”

“For— what,” Joe says, “forever?”

Rami shrugs. “I— yeah. I guess. Unless you come back to Tenerife.”

“But— what— I still have two more days,” Joe says. “Maybe three. I— we can—”

“I don’t want to drag it out,” Rami says. “That doesn’t help anybody.” He looks at Joe, giving him a tiny smile, and then he sniffles a bit, turning away as he reaches up to wipe at his eyes. “Thank you for the last few weeks,” he says. “They mean a lot to me, and…you do too.” He swallows hard, and then sniffles again. “I really hope you get to direct your movie.”

“You’re like, really saying goodbye to me right now,” Joe says, and Rami nods.

“I really am,” he says.

Joe swallows hard, and he sniffles as well, gently clearing his throat. “Can I— I— can I give you a hug?” he asks. “To say goodbye?”

“Sure,” Rami says, and he steps up to Joe, wrapping his arms around him, snuggling against Joe’s chest.

Joe rubs his hand over Rami’s back, squeezing him close as he closes his eyes, just listening to the water and Rami’s breathing. A part of himself he hates is thinking about how this will probably be a great script someday, and then he squeezes his eyes shut even harder, trying to stifle a cry.

Rami pulls back, and Joe’s arms tense around him, so he snuggles back against Joe’s chest, nuzzling against him. They stand there for a few moments longer, neither of them wanting to move, but eventually, they do. 

“Can I kiss you?” Joe asks softly, and Rami nods, closing his eyes as Joe leans in, pressing his lips to Rami’s.

Rami sighs into the kiss, relaxing against Joe as their mouths move together. Rami wets his lips as he pulls back, then kisses Joe again, until Rami pulls back again, taking a step back from Joe.

Joe reaches out, trailing his fingers over Rami’s arm, taking his hand, squeezing his fingers. “I’m so happy I came to Tenerife,” he says softly. 

Rami gives him a sad smile, tears spilling over his cheeks. “I miss Masca too,” he says.

Joe nods, trying to blink away his tears. “Maybe I’ll see you there again someday.” His tears spill over as well, and he nods again. He sniffles, and steps away from Rami, but keeps hold of his hand.

“Joe,” Rami says, squeezing Joe’s hand.

“I know,” Joe says, and he reaches up, wiping at his face. “Bye, Rami.” Their arms stretch out between them as Joe takes another step.

“Bye, Joe,” Rami says softly, and their hands slip from each other, and Joe lets out a deep shuddering breath, turning away from Rami, heading back up the beach alone.

Joe absentmindedly runs the tip of his tongue back and forth over his teeth as he surveys his hotel room. He’s sort of surprised; he thinks this is the least amount of souvenirs he’s bought on a trip, ever. When he went to Berlin he came home with so many beer steins that he had to get a new suitcase, handing them out to friends and family like candy. He usually buys a stack of postcards and magnets and shot glasses as well. But not this time. Because all those places felt like vacation, just a holiday; places he maybe didn’t plan on visiting again, at least not any time soon, so he wanted to take as many pieces of it home with him as he could.

Tenerife feels like more than that.

Joe blows out a breath. He runs his fingers over the desk, making sure he has his charger, and his notebook. He ducks back into the bathroom, rapping his knuckles a couple times on the counter, glancing into the shower. He walks around his room, but there’s not really any place for his things to hide. He’s packed everything he brought with him.

Joe sighs, and glances at his watch. He’d called down to the front desk to ask for them to arrange his taxi for him. He still has a few minutes before it’s due to arrive, but he has nothing else to do. He’s done. He sighs again, rubbing his anxious stomach, walking over to the balcony. His hand pauses on the door, and he thinks about just sitting back down at the desk, or going downstairs to wait in the lobby, but no. He’ll punish himself some more. He steps outside, reaching up to tug on the brim of his Yankees cap, and then sits down on the chair, resting against the balcony, looking out over Punta del Hidalgo.

When he had spoken to his friends, asking around to find out who had ever been to Tenerife and where he should stay, they had all recommended places along the southern coast, La Caleta, and Costa Adeje. He’s not really sure why he picked the northern part of the island. He wonders how he would feel about leaving today if he _had_ picked the south. Probably better. But the trip overall…it would have been a lot worse.

Joe gets a notification on his watch, telling him it’s time to leave. He pushes himself up, and leans out over the balcony one last time, making a quiet noise as he watches the water, and then he just shakes his head, turning around. He makes it a couple steps into his hotel room before he turns back and looks out over the balcony again, smiling faintly at the view. It’s a good view, he thinks. In more ways than one.

Joe goes inside, pulling on his backpack, grabbing his suitcase. He pats his pockets and looks around, just one last check to make sure he has everything. He heads down to the lobby, handing in his keycard, and he looks around before deciding to just wait outside. The valet greets him, and Joe just gives him a small smile. “I have a taxi coming,” he says, and the valet nods.

When it arrives, Joe takes his backpack, climbing into the backseat, as his suitcase gets put in the trunk for him. The driver looks at Joe in the rearview mirror, greeting him.

“El Aeropuerto de Tenerife Notre, por favor,” Joe says, and the man nods, pulling away from the hotel. Joe recalls from his first day here, it was only about a half hour drive from the airport to the resort. Thirty minutes, and he’s done. The taxi pulls out onto the freeway, and Joe smiles faintly, thinking about how proudly Rami made that turn, saying that he always missed it. They drive through the town, down towards the beach, and Joe turns in his seat, looking out the window over the water. Past the restaurants and bars, past Zeppelin, the hamburger place they went on their first…date? Joe wonders. Was that a date? Joe almost laughs as he thinks about it; yeah, he guesses that _was_ a date. They were _all_ dates.

They drive past the gas station on the outskirts of town, and the last hotel, and then they’re just surrounded by green, mountains and palm trees. Joe turns in his seat, watching as the ocean fades in and out of sight as the winding road takes them further into the interior of the island, and then they approach the next town, Tejina. He and Rami had come here a couple times to eat, when they’d run out of places in Punta del Hidalgo; there’s a pizza place here that Joe thought was pretty good. He didn’t like it as much, though; it’s not on the water, not as pretty. Joe feels a bit of a twinge, and he looks around frantically. He thinks he’s seen the ocean for the last time, at least from the ground. They’re too far inland now.

Joe looks down at his lap, blinking away tears.

The car slows as it makes a turn, and Joe looks up, seeing a sign directing them to the airport. He starts anxiously bouncing his feet up and down, wringing his hands together. He squeezes them between his knees. He opens his mouth to speak, but feels a bit nauseous, so he closes it again. He takes a sharp breath, and then swallows hard, trying to get rid of the sour taste in his mouth. “Uh—” Joe has to swallow again and wet his lips; he’s not sure if any sound came out. “Uh, perdon.”

The man glances back at him, giving him a quick smile. “Si.”

“Uh, tu— tu hablas Inglés?” Joe asks. “Un poco?”

The man hesitates a bit, so Joe nods, holding up his finger. “Uh, por favor, uno…minuto.” He makes a bit of a face and the man smiles as Joe takes out his cell phone, going to Google Translate and hoping it’s correct enough. “Puedes dar…vuelta el auto?” Joe says, biting on his lip. He types more, stammering a bit as he reads. “No quiero ir al aeropuerto.”

“No?” the man asks. “Dónde?”

“Dónde,” Joe says softly. “Uh, where. Where?” The man nods. “Uh, Punta del Hidalgo,” Joe says, and the man looks at him in confusion. “Si, si,” Joe says, “I know. Por favor.”

“No— no airport,” the man says, and Joe nods his confirmation.

“No aeropuerto,” Joe says, gesturing with his hand. “Playa del Arenal?”

“Playa del Arenal,” the man repeats, and Joe nods. They drive a bit further before there’s a small building with a parking lot that they can pull into, and they turn around, heading back towards Punta del Hidalgo.

“Lo siento,” Joe says after a few moments, and the man shrugs. Joe smiles, and decides not to say anything else; this guy probably thinks he’s insane enough as it is, but as they head back towards town, Joe takes his phone out again, typing. Then he quickly edits a word, unsure of how this particular gentleman feels about same-sex relationships. “La _persona_ que amo vive en Punta del Hidalgo.” Joe grins, excitedly looking out the windows of the taxi.

They drive back into town, turning off the freeway onto one of the smaller streets, and Joe takes out his phone. “Uh, aquí está bien,” Joe reads, waving his hand around. “Dondequiera.”

The man nods, and pulls over into one of the parking spaces on the side of the road, and Joe quickly pays, grabbing his backpack and climbing out. He bounces on his feet a couple times, looking around as the taxi driver takes Joe’s suitcase out of the trunk for him. “Gracias,” Joe says. “Muchas _muchas_ gracias. Muchas.” Joe grins and takes his suitcase, and starts hurrying down towards the beach. He kind of regrets that he didn’t— well, where was he going to put it? Fuck, if he’d thought about it he could’ve just gotten the hotel room for another night, but no! He’s making a grand romantic gesture!

Joe knows he looks dumb, excitedly hurrying to the part of the beach Rami works from, dragging his suitcase behind him, sand flying. He gets there, and looks around. He sees the Desi and Abril, and… 

Joe looks out on the water, but doesn’t see Rami there either. He purses his lips, thinking, and then he just shrugs, walking over to Desi. “Hi!” he says, waving eagerly. 

“Uh, hi,” Desi says, looking at Joe’s suitcase, and then back up at him. “Uh, you leave today?”

“Uh, maybe,” Joe lies, shrugging. “Is Rami here?”

Desi shakes his head. “He has no lessons today.”

“Oh,” Joe says.

“He stayed home,” Abril says, stretching out on the sand. “He’s too sad to work this week.”

Desi groans. “Cállate,” he says, looking at her, and Abril just smirks and shrugs. Desi looks back at Joe. “He…might not see you.”

Joe nods. “I know,” he says. “That’s a possibility.” He didn’t really think until just now how _much_ of a possibility it might be, but… “I’m still gonna try, though.”

Abril smiles, shifting on the sand. “Good,” she says. “He likes you.”

Joe smiles at that. “Good,” he says. “I like him too.” He grabs his suitcase again, and then takes a couple awkward steps. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys around!” he says, and then he starts walking back up towards the road. He walks towards Rami’s house, and then crosses the street, sand still flying off the wheels of his suitcase as he goes. He looks up at Rami’s house, resting his hand on the gate, swallowing hard. He blows out a breath, and then opens the gate. His stomach twists as he takes a few steps towards Rami’s house, and then he stops walking, hunching over. He groans, then whimpers, all of a sudden realizing that this may just be a really dumb idea. A _really_ dumb idea. Wha— “oh my god,” Joe whines. He straightens up and turns back towards the road, looking at the water. He stomps his foot, and then just shakes his head.

“What to say,” Joe says softly, “what to _say_. I— ugh.”

“Joe?”

Joe jumps and turns back towards Rami’s house, seeing Rami standing at the door. “Rami, h— hi!” He glances back at the water again, and then takes a couple steps towards Rami, then stops. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Rami asks, shifting on his feet, crossing his arms. “I— I’m surprised…I.” He shakes his head, then gestures towards Joe’s suitcase. “You’re flying today?” Rami asks, but Joe doesn’t answer. “I said I didn’t want to see you,” Rami says. “I— we said goodbye. That was it, I— I can’t.” He shakes his head, and steps back inside his house.

“Wait!” Joe exclaims, reaching out his hand. Rami freezes, hand on the doorknob. “Please, wait,” Joe says. “Let me explain.” He walks towards the front door, still staying a couple feet back. 

“Joe, I—”

“Please, Rami,” Joe says. “Just…” He sighs. “I…I know. We said goodbye, and I know you don’t want to say it again.”

Rami taps his foot a bit, biting on his lip; someone else might think he looks annoyed or impatient, but Joe thinks he just looks sad.

“So…” Joe shrugs. “I— let’s not.”

Rami sniffles. “Let’s not what?” he asks.

“Say goodbye,” Joe says, and he takes another step towards Rami. 

Rami scoffs a bit, shaking his head as tears spill over his cheeks. “That’s— that— Joe, why are you here?” he asks.

“Masca,” Joe says.

Rami groans, wiping at his eyes. “Joe, just _stop_ with Masca! Okay? I get it, you miss it. I miss it too. But—”

“Let’s do it again,” Joe says. “Except the whole thing, both ways.”

Rami frowns. “Wha— what?” he asks, sniffling gently.

“Obviously with food in between,” Joe says. “And a swim, to cool down. Maybe more breaks. God, just thinking about it sounds terrifying, doesn’t it? A _six_ hour hike, I mean—”

“What are you talking about?” Rami asks.

“I’m talking about _us_ ,” Joe says. “And— here, and Tenerife, and—”

“You’re not making any sense,” Rami says softly.

“No, I’m not!” Joe exclaims, and then he laughs. “I’m talking about…a life. Together. Being in love.”

Rami looks sadly at Joe, swallowing hard. “You’re leaving.”

“I’d be an idiot to leave you,” Joe says.

Rami lets out a sad broken laugh, shaking his head. “Your meeting,” he says.

“Can wait.”

Rami shakes his head again. “Joe, no. _No_. Don’t give that up for me, it’s not worth it. This could be your big break, it’s— it’s going to go really well.”

“I’ll reschedule,” Joe says. “I have a _great_ agent, okay? I mean, who else could get me hired to write an entire miniseries for _Hulu_. She can make another meeting. If not with them, then with someone else.”

Rami sniffles, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. He glances back into his house, and then sighs, looking back at Joe. “I can’t let you do that,” he says. “I can’t be the person you…give that up for.”

“Rami,” Joe says, and he steps closer, reaching out to take Rami’s hand in his. “If it weren’t for work, and this meeting. If— would you want me to stay? _Do_ you want me to stay? Because if you don’t, and you’re just trying to be nice, just tell me. I can handle it. I can probably also still make my flight.” He bites on his bottom lip, smiling, and squeezes Rami’s hand in his. “But if you want me to stay—”

“Of course I do,” Rami says. “I…of course I want you to stay.”

Joe’s smile grows, and he looks at Rami. “You do?” he asks.

Rami nods. “Yeah, of course I do. I love you.” He looks away, a bit embarrassed, or shy, and then he sighs. “But I—”

“Then I’ll stay,” Joe says.

“Really?” Rami asks hopefully, and Joe nods.

“Yeah,” Joe says. “Of course I will.” He smiles at Rami. “If you’ll have me, I—”

Rami throws himself forward, wrapping his arms around Joe, pulling him into a kiss. Joe laughs in surprise, reaching his hands up to cup Rami’s face, holding him close as they kiss, their mouths moving together, Rami snuggled as close to him as he can be.

“Wow,” Joe says, pulling back. He smiles at Rami, and then kisses him again. “I…I’ll take that as a good sign.”

Rami nods. “It is,” he says. “I— Joe,” he says. “You can’t— you’re just going to move here.”

“I am,” Joe says. “Yeah, why— why not. I can write from anywhere.”

“There’s a lot to figure out,” Rami says. “Moving here wasn’t just a—”

“I’m sure my agent can help me find a decent immigration lawyer,” Joe says. He glances back at his suitcase. “If you want me to go—”

“No!” Rami says loudly, taking Joe’s hand again, and Joe smiles, reaching up to brush his other hand over Rami’s temple, pushing his fingers through his hair. “No,” Rami says, “I want you to stay.” He kisses Joe again, resting against him.

“So, this is kind of a weird thing to ask,” Joe says after a few moments of them standing there together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. “But…I checked out of my hotel today.”

Rami pulls back, looking at him. “Do you need a place to stay?” he asks.

Joe shrugs. “I— you know, just for a couple nights,” he says, trying to sounds casual. “Just until I can find a place to rent, or—”

“Come in,” Rami says, stepping out of the doorway.

“Yeah?” Joe asks eagerly, and Rami nods, smiling. “Great,” he says. Joe heads the few feet back to his suitcase, picking it up and carrying it up to Rami’s front door. “I finally get to see inside?” he asks, and Rami chuckles, nodding. “Wow,” Joe says, “lucky me.” He steps inside Rami’s house, looking around the entryway with a smile. “Where should I put my bag?” he asks, looking back at Rami. 

“Come on,” Rami says, closing the door behind them. “I’ll show you.”

“Ugh.”

“Joe.”

“ _Ughhhhhhh._ ”

“ _Joe_!”

“I’m dying,” Joe says, stopping again to take another drink of water, looking at the trail, heading back up into the mountains. “This is— why are we doing this again?”

“Joe, come on,” Rami says, patting him on the back a couple times. “You’re not dying.” Then he shifts his weight back, looking at Joe. “Are you really not doing okay?” he asks gently. “If you can’t do it, it’s safer to go back to the beach and wait for a boat.” He glances at his watch. “We could still catch it.”

“No, no, I’m just being dramatic,” Joe says, waving Rami on. “I’m not an athlete, you know.”

“No?” Rami asks, grinning as he starts walking ahead of Joe on the trail.

“I heard that,” Joe says, following after him.

“Heard what?” Rami asks, glancing back at Joe. 

“That tone,” Joe says, and Rami laughs loudly, the sound ringing through the gorge. “I— I got this.”

“You do,” Rami nods. “I believe in you.”

“Aw, Rami,” Joe says, “thank you.”

“And think about the good food that’s waiting for us,” Rami says.

Joe groans. “Mm, yes. Tell me again, what’s your favourite at this place?”

“I’m getting the octopus salad,” Rami says.

Joe makes a noise. “I’ll…look at the menu,” he says hesitantly, and Rami laughs.

“Can I make a recommendation?” Rami asks. “The sauce for their papas arrugadas is some of the _best_ on the island; I think you’ll really like it. All homemade.”

“Sign me up,” Joe says.

“Thought so,” Rami says, and he glances back at Joe, smiling. “Oh, speaking of food—”

“Go on,” Joe says, and Rami giggles.

“I’ve made a reservation for Wednesday night in Los Realejos,” Rami says. 

“Tell me more,” Joe says, panting a bit as they head up a particularly steep part of the trail.

“Mesón El Monasterio,” Rami says.

“Si,” Joe nods.

“It’s one of the best restaurants on the island,” Rami says. “Their speciality is homemade sausage.”

“Cool.”

“They sell it by the _metre_.” Rami looks back to watch Joe’s eyes widen, and Rami smiles.

“Sorry,” Joe says, “how have I lived here this long and you haven’t— sausage by the metre? Come on, Rami, that should have been date number one.”

Rami smiles, rolling his eyes. “Gee, sorry,” he says. “Are you too upset, should I cancel?” he asks.

“ _Never_ ,” Joe growls, and Rami laughs.

“It’s _so_ good,” Rami says. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been, obviously, and my mouth is watering.”

“Ooh,” Joe says, waggling his eyebrows, and Rami tries not to roll his eyes again as he chuckles. “Well, why Wednesday?” Joe asks. “Where is it again? Why don’t we go…okay, maybe not tonight, I’ll be dead by then, but tomorrow?”

Rami shrugs. “I just thought it’d be a nice date night before you go,” he says. He looks over at Joe. “But if you want to reschedule, we can.”

Joe pants a bit harder as he hurries to catch up with Rami, reaching out to take his hand. “No,” he says, “Wednesday night sounds _perfect_.”

Rami smiles, leaning over to give Joe a quick kiss. “Okay,” he says. “I just don’t want you flying on an empty stomach.”

“How many metres of sausage do you think they’ll let me take on the plane?” Joe asks.

“Uh…none?” Rami says. “None sausage.” Joe smiles. “So fill up while you’re here.”

“Oh, I will,” Joe says, and Rami laughs again, shaking his head. “Do you think I can convince them to let me film in the Canary Islands?” he asks.

Rami smiles faintly, shaking his head. “I don’t think so,” he says softly.

“No, me neither,” Joe says, and he tugs Rami in closer, giving him another quick kiss. “But it’d be nice.”

“It would,” Rami says, and he playfully rests his head against Joe’s shoulder. “Scotland’s not _that_ far away though. All things considered.” He makes a quiet noise, straightening back up, letting Joe’s hand drop from his. “Are you feeling better?” Rami asks.

“Ugh, _yes_ ,” Joe says. “I’m tired, but I’ll survive. And once when we’re sitting up there, eating our— our potatoes and octopus salad, it’ll be— a worthwhile memory.”

“It will be,” Rami says, nodding his agreement. “You’ll be proud of it. And I won’t make you do it again.”

“I’m gonna need more than potatoes, though,” Joe says, sort of to Rami, kind of to himself. “What do I gotta do to get a steak around here?”

Rami smiles, looking up at the trail still ahead of them, taking in the familiar sights. He looks over at Joe, watching him for a few moments, as Joe breathes harder, sweat staining his shirt. “Was it worth it?” Rami asks suddenly.

“Oh,” Joe says, blowing out a heavy breath. He opens his mouth to give another sarcastic answer about dying at Masca, but then he sees the hopeful look on Rami’s face, the brightness of his eyes. Joe nods, smiling back. “Yeah,” he says, and Rami smiles, shoulders relaxing. Joe reaches out to take Rami’s hand again, squeezing it gently. “Yeah, of course it was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story was a total joy to write and share, so I really hope you enjoyed it! 🏝


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